


“Road trip with John Constantine, I thought. It’ll be fun, I thought.”

by mirror_cannibal



Series: mirror_cannibal's Mess of Crossovers [2]
Category: Constantine (TV), Hellblazer, Lucifer (TV), Preacher (Comics), Preacher (TV), Supernatural
Genre: (also looking for Lucifer), Crossover Pairings, Don't question it, I'm Bad At Tagging, Looking for God, Multi, Multiple Crossovers, POV Alternating, So many crossovers, Team Up, also sam and dean are john's godchildren, anyway, but if you don't know the characters it'll probably be really confusing, but not really, but pretty much everyone is a main character, everyone's probably OOC, just accept, mainly focused around constantine, technically a sequel??, this is sort of a mess, you don't really need to be in all the fandoms to understand it
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-17
Updated: 2018-03-21
Packaged: 2019-02-16 04:59:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 25,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13046988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mirror_cannibal/pseuds/mirror_cannibal
Summary: The Rising Darkness is...well, rising, and Constantine is after the recently-escaped Lucifer to put a stop to it, along with Chas, Zed, and the Winchesters.Eugene Root is still stuck in Hell, and the Unholy Trinity are chasing down a possible lead to find God: a man calling himself Lucifer, living in LA.The groups find each other, and decide to team up for everyone's benefit.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So this is technically a sequel to my other story ‘We All Need Friends’, but you don’t really need to read that one to understand this one. I’ve included a little preface, which is just the end of ‘We All Need Friends’, just so you know what’s happening now.
> 
> Also, as mentioned in the last story, I’ve taken some things from the Constantine show and some things from the Hellblazer comics (and also just made some stuff up), so it’s not all completely accurate. Also, I'm American, so any dialogue from anyone who doesn't have an American accent is probably really badly written, sorry in advance for that.

**Preface:**

  
  


Zed scooted her chair closer to John’s. “This is nice,” she said with a grin, the dim lights of the bar reflecting in her dark eyes, “You know, having friends, being able to talk about what we do.” She cocked her head at John. “It’s new. Different. But I like it.”

“I’m glad you do, love,” John said sincerely, “With all you’ve been through, you deserve a little happiness now and again.” Zed beamed, and John added, “But, technically, our work here is done now. And we’ve still got the Rising Darkness to deal with.”

“We can help with that,” Dean spoke up from where he’d been listening across the table. “Sammy and I don’t have any more cases at the moment, and this Rising Darkness seems pretty serious. We’d be happy to help you out with it. You can’t say we’re not experienced.”

John tilted his head towards the Winchester brothers in acknowledgement. “Right you are, lads. Can’t say a little help would hurt. I was planning on leaving tomorrow.”

“We’ll meet you,” Sam grinned, “Say, breakfast at the diner next door at about eight, then we’ll get on the road?”

“Sounds great,” Zed glowed, “John, this is what I mean! More people, more friends, it’s great!”

John gave her a smile, then glanced over at Chas. _It’s not easy for me to trust people that quickly,_ John thought, _but they’re my godchildren…_ Chas noticed his glance, and leaned forward to whisper softly in his ear. “I’m proud of you, John,” he said, and John could feel an uncharacteristic blush sweep across his face. After a beat, Chas added, “And I love you.”

John twisted in his seat to give Chas a quick chaste kiss on the lips. “I love you, too,” he murmured softly. “And I always will.”

  
  


* * *

  
   


**Chapter 1:**

  
  


“Hello, boys.”

“Crowley,” Sam nodded in response. The summoning spell had gone off without a hitch, and Crowley was now standing in the woods behind Constantine’s millhouse with Sam, Dean, and John.

Crowley cocked his head, seemingly surprised to see John. “What do you want from me this time? And why on earth are you boys working with John bloody Constantine, of all people?”

“Hullo, Crowley,” John grinned, “We just wanted some information, is all. We’d like to get into the pit, and something tells me you can help us with that, mate.”

Crowley laughed. “The pit? You mean Lucifer’s pit? Why would you want to get in there? And what makes you think I could help you?”

Dean growled, “Because we can make you help us.”

Crowley held up his hands in surrender. “Calm down, squirrel. Anyway, I can’t help you with this one, much as I’d love to. Lucifer’s no longer in the pit.”

John spread his hands in exasperation. “Then why isn’t he in power again, taking care of this Rising Darkness issue?” His voice rose with frustration.

“Couldn’t tell ya,” Crowley shrugged, “He’s abandoned Hell altogether. Seems he’s gone on a little vacation.”

“Where’s he gone?” Sam demanded.

“Where all the vacationers go,” Crowley rolled his eyes. “From what I hear, he’s partying it up in Los Angeles with his right-hand demon.” He frowned at them. “Why are you boys so interested, anyway?”

John waved a hand at him in dismissal. “We don’t need you anymore, mate, you can go now.”

“Wait,” Sam suddenly stepped forward, “How the hell did he get out of the pit, anyway?”

“Hell if I know,” Crowley cried, “It was probably Mazikeen who broke him out, the sneaky little demon. From what my sources told me, she’s the one who’s with him now.”

Dean sighed. “So, what, we go to LA to find Lucifer and his right-hand demon?”

John grinned at that. “Sounds like a plan. I haven’t been to the ol’ City of Angels in a dog’s age; this oughta be fun.”

“Fun,” Sam shook his head. “Yeah, that’s the word.”

  
  


* * *

  
   


“You want to go on a road trip to LA on a search for Lucifer―the actual Lord of Hell, Lucifer―who might possibly be somewhere in that city with a demon sidekick, based on information given to you by the new Lord of Hell?” Chas lifted an eyebrow in John’s direction.

John pulled on his trenchcoat and turned to grin at Chas. “That about sums it up. But don’t worry about his demon sidekick―if Crowley was telling the truth, and it really is Mazikeen, I think we’re in luck.”

“In _luck?_ ” Chas frowned. “Because he has a demon with him?”

“No,” John rolled his eyes. “Because I’ve _met_ this Maze, and may have possibly also slept with her a few times, and therefore am currently on her good side.”

Chas’s frown deepened. “You slept with a demon,” he repeated, sounding incredibly displeased, as if _that_ was the stupidest thing John had ever done. 

John inwardly snorted. _I’ve done much stupider,_ he decided not to say aloud. “Ah, don’t get jealous, love,” he crooned instead, abandoning his packing to slink over to where Chas was sitting on the bed. “It was a long time ago, and it was purely physical. Besides,” he straddled Chas in one smooth motion, placing his hands at the back of Chas’s neck and pulling him in to whisper in his ear, “I love _you._ ”

With a snort, Chas gripped John around the waist and turned to drop him onto the bed. John felt a chuckle rise in his chest as Chas leaned over John to kiss him, which the magician returned enthusiastically. The blond raked his fingers through Chas’s hair, pulling him in for a deeper kiss while Chas’s hands ran down his sides to grip him around the waist. John started to let out soft moans at Chas’s touch, which the brunet swallowed up before they could spill out. They broke apart for a moment to catch their breaths. With a sultry gaze in his eye and a devilish smirk on his face, John murmured softly, “So you’re driving, right?”

Chas dropped his head against John’s shoulder. “You’re impossible,” he groaned, his voice muffled by fabric.

“Come here,” John laughed, pulling Chas back up for another kiss, hooking a leg over the brunet’s back to pull their bodies closer together.

A soft knock at the door frame interrupted them, and they broke apart to see Zed standing there, looking mildly amused. “Did you finish packing yet?” she smirked, “You’re holding us up.”

John frowned at her. “I’m _almost_ finished, love,” he offered, even though all he’d packed was a few changes of clothes and some magical artifacts. Chas made as if he was about to move away, but John tightened his hold on him before he could run.

Zed shook her head like she knew John was lying, but only gave a sigh in response and turned to walk away. “The Winchesters are waiting,” she called over her shoulder, “Shall I tell them that you’ll be out as soon as you’re done making out?”

“Sure, yeah,” John waved her off, and she left with a snort of laughter.

“John,” Chas shook his head. “We do have to leave soon.”

“They can wait a few minutes,” John breathed, stretching up to capture Chas’s mouth once more.

The brunet pulled away. “Seriously,” Chas said, but he was smiling. “Don’t worry, I’m sure we’ll have plenty of opportunities later. After all, it is a road trip.”

“Indeed it is,” John sighed, letting Chas get up before hopping off the bed himself to grab his half-filled magic bag. “Well then, I’m off to pack.” Bidding an amused-looking Chas goodbye with one last kiss, John made his way around the millhouse, picking up vaguely important-looking things and dropping them into his bag. He grabbed a few protection pendants, a flask of hellhound blood, an eagle feather blessed by a Mexican priest, a couple ceremonial bowls, and a bottle of gin. _Never know what you might need,_ John mused, inwardly laughing.

He glanced around, looking for anything else he might need, and caught sight of Sam leaning against the doorframe. The taller Winchester brother gestured towards John’s bag. “You really need all that stuff?” he asked, disbelief in his tone.

John shrugged. “Might, might not, who knows,” he said in response.

“What is that?” Sam nodded to the dagger than John had just added to his bag.

“Just a little blade forged from volcanic rock, quenched with holy oil, and blessed by an archangel,” John smirked. “Nifty little bugger, that one.”

Sam’s eyes widened, and he shook his head. “Anyway, Dean’s getting antsy,” he sighed, glancing back towards the front of the millhouse as if the older Winchester brother was going to smash through the front door at any second and scream at them to _‘Hurry the hell up!’_

“That’s the last of it, mate,” John closed his bag with an air of finality, then yelled, “Chas, hurry it up, mate, we don’t got all day here!”

Chas immediately appeared, carrying two bags and an annoyed expression. “I would’ve finished packing _sooner_ if you hadn’t distracted me,” he huffed as he walked past John to the front door. John met Sam’s questioning glance, then gave an innocent shrug. Sam rolled his eyes, and they both followed Chas out to their waiting cars.

Dean and Zed were impatiently waiting, practically bouncing up and down while Chas finished loading his cab and Sam double-checked the Impala’s trunk. “All set?” Sam asked John, who looked at Chas before giving Sam a grin and a thumbs up.

“Can I ride with you two this time?” Zed practically begged the Winchesters. “I can’t spend another car ride inhaling all of John’s cigarette smoke.”

Ignoring John’s indignant _‘Oi!’_ , Dean chuckled and gestured to his car. “Sure, hop in.” Then he looked at John and Chas. “So, I’m thinking we’ll drive the whole day, and if we need to rest for the night we’ll call each other and find a town to stay in. It’d be better if we didn’t get separated.”

“Agreed,” John nodded, trying to match Dean’s seriousness.

Zed pointed at him accusingly. “That means if your phone rings, John, _answer it._ Chas, make sure he answers his phone if it goes off.”

“I’m not incompetent,” John scoffed, at the same time Chas said wearily, “I’ll keep an eye on it for him.” John just rolled his eyes, and got into the cab with an indignant huff.

Sam smiled, then stretched before getting into the Impala. “Let’s get going. We’ve got a long trip ahead of us.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have the first, like, 10 chapters written, so I'll be editing and posting those like once a week? I'm gonna go with every Wednesday, and then after the first 10 it'll probably be updated really slowly. I have no clue how long this is going to be omg.
> 
> Anyway, thanks for reading the first chapter of this absolute mess, leave a comment or a kudo!


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> posting this a day early 'cause I'm gonna be busy tomorrow :) this is mostly just establishing john and chas' relationship ('cause i love them ok) and a lot of dialogue and stuffs so enjoy

“John, stop it,” Chas sighed, keeping his eyes firmly fixed on the road.

“Ah, come on, love,” John murmured, leaning across the car to breathe hot and heavy down Chas’s neck. “Don’t tell me you wouldn’t love a bit of road head, eh? And when I’m so willing, too…” he licked his lips, looking up at Chas through his lashes.

“I said no,” Chas frowned, “Not while I’m driving.” They’d only been on the road for an hour, yet John was already more than drunk off of the numerous bottles of alcohol he had brought along.

“Come on,” John pushed, reaching a hand down to palm Chas’s crotch.

Chas jerked away, his hands yanking the steering wheel to the side. “Dammit, John, I said no!” he growled, desperately trying to straighten the vehicle as it swerved back and forth across the road.

John suddenly pulled away, leaning his head against the dash and groaning. “Stop swerving,” he moaned. Suddenly he slapped a hand over his mouth as his shoulders jerked.

“Oh, you are _not_ throwing up all that whiskey in my cab,” Chas panicked.

  
  


* * *

  
  


“For the last time, _no!_ ” Dean slammed his hand against the steering wheel. “Driver picks the music! Last I checked, neither of you are driving this beauty, therefore neither of you get to pick the goddamn music!”

“Sorry,” Zed muttered, folding her arms and harrumphing. Sam offered no apology, merely opting to stare out the window in silence.

Dean watched Chas’s cab ahead of them, which was now fishtailing wildly across the (thankfully otherwise deserted) road. “What the hell are they doing?” he mused.

“It’s probably John’s fault,” Zed offered.

Suddenly the cab screeched to a stop, and Dean hurriedly slammed on his own brakes. “What the hell!” he shouted as both doors of the cab opened and the two stumbled out. Dean, Sam, and Zed watched in confusion as John doubled over at the side of the road, retching. Chas circled the cab and seemed to be telling John off.

“What the hell are they doing,” Sam furrowed his eyebrows at the pair, and Zed let out a snort of laughter.

Dean leaned out of his window and shouted, “What the hell happened?”

Chas shook his head and yelled back, “He’s fine, just drank too much.”

“Already?” Dean shook his head. “Whatever, why am I even surprised. We’re going to keep going, just catch up when he’s done.” Chas gave a salute of acknowledgement, and Dean carefully drove around the haphazardly parked cab. He muttered to himself, “Road trip with John Constantine, I thought. It’ll be fun, I thought.” He shook his head again, sighed. “Yeah, it’ll be a fucking blast.”

  
  


* * *

  
  


Zed lay across the backseat of the Impala, dozing in and out of sleep. It was just after midnight, Sam was now driving, and no one had requested they stop and rest yet. Dean had made it incredibly clear that under no circumstances was Zed to be allowed to drive his ‘baby’ before he started snoring in the passenger seat. Zed took out her phone, texting John, _‘You guys still good?’_

She got an answer back within the minute: _‘Stop texting me, trying to sleep’_. She smiled, then sent a bunch of emoticons just to annoy him. _I’m not surprised he’s still making Chas drive,_ she mused, _though I’m sure he doesn’t mind. He’d do anything for John. John’s really lucky to have a man like him._

“Don’t take my pie,” Dean mumbled in his sleep, then shifted and started snoring even louder. Sam just let out an irritable sigh, but kept silent.

“It’s ironic, isn’t it,” Zed spoke softly, not wanting to wake the sleeping Winchester, “That when you’re finally driving and therefore in charge of the radio, he’s sleeping.”

“Does it all the time,” Sam answered, grinning at her in the rearview mirror. His hazel eyes looked almost black in the darkness of the car.

“Well,” Zed breathed in a conspiratorial voice, “Since he’s so deeply asleep, want me to drive for a few hours?”

Sam laughed, then shook his head. “I wouldn’t risk it. He’s _really_ protective of this car. Besides, I got plenty of rest while Dean was driving. Thanks, though.”

“Anytime, Winchester,” Zed leaned back against the seat, shifting until she was comfortable. “Anytime.”

  
  


* * *

  
  


Chas followed the taillights of the Winchesters’ Impala, his vision occasionally blurring with tiredness. He sighed, then glanced over at John, who had just answered a text from Zed―which had announced itself at top volume, prompting many curses from a startled John and Chas alike―and gone back to sleep. Chas took a moment to appreciate the rare silence in the company of the magician, marvelling at how quietly the man slept. So loud in life, such a thick mask of bravado and confidence and cockiness, yet when he was asleep… _He looks vulnerable. Like any other human being,_ Chas mused.

The thought of John being vulnerable prompted a memory of when they’d first decided to try out a real relationship together―no more meaningless flirtations and empty sex, but a true, actual relationship. John had shied away from the idea at first; of course, he was John Constantine, it was to be expected. But, strangely enough, Chas had found John in his room one night, sober and fully clothed (which was strange enough for John, never mind what happened after). 

_“I was thinking about what you said,” John mumbled, not meeting Chas’s eyes. “About...you know, the relationship thing.”_

_“Ah,” Chas replied, “The relationship thing.”_

_That earned a quick glare from John, before his gaze slipped away again. “You still…” he stopped himself, swallowed, then started again, his voice softer. “You still want to do that? With me?”_

_“Do you?” Chas asked, sitting on the bed next to him._

_John’s cheeks were painted red, and he edged away from Chas, as if he was terrified of what he was about to do, yet still wanted to do it. “I think I might,” he muttered, staring at something across the room._

__

_Chas reached over and grabbed John’s chin, turning him so their eyes finally met. “Then I do, too,” Chas said, leaning in to kiss John softly. Though John had seemed hesitant before, now that there was physical contact it seemed he was back in his comfort zone. He surged forward, and Chas’s hands on his hips barely slowed him down as they both fell back on the bed in a tangle of limbs._

__

_“I’m not too experienced in the relationship field,” John warned in between kisses, “So don’t expect too much from me, alright?”_

__

_“I know you,” Chas said in return, “I know exactly how much to expect.”_

__

_“You know me,” John repeated with a breathy laugh as Chas began to kiss his neck. “And you still want to be with me? In that way?”_

__

_“Yes,” Chas breathed, “Stop questioning it, John, just let yourself be loved for once.” John went strangely quiet at that, his body stilling for a moment as he absorbed the thought. Chas whispered softly, “I know you don’t love yourself, John, and that no one ever did. But I could love you, enough for the both of us. Enough for everyone in your life who never did.” John let out a choked laugh, and Chas looked up to see wetness shining in his eyes. “Don’t cry,” he murmured._

__

_“I’m not,” John said shakily as a tear escaped his eye. He reached a hand up to rub angrily at his eyes, as if they had betrayed him. “What’s the catch?” he asked then, voice rough and humorless, tight with unshed tears._

__

_“There is none,” Chas sighed. “There is no catch to love. That’s the point.”_

__

_John looked at him carefully, his eyes red. “Then what would the consequence be if I said I loved you? Hypothetically speaking.”_

__

_“I’d say it right back.”_

__

_There was a brief pause, then John whispered, “I think I love you, Chas.”_

__

__

_“I love you, too, John.”_

Chas shook himself back to the present just before John shot up in his seat with a strained gasp. “Wassit―oh,” the blond magician sighed, rubbing his eyes. “Mornin’, Chas.”

Chas merely rolled his eyes. “It’s 1:00am, John.”

There was a beat of silence, then John asked timidly, “You want me to drive?”

Chas turned to stare at John in shock, hardly believing what he was hearing. “Sorry, could you―could you repeat that? I think I might be hallucinating here.”

John glared at him. “Do. You. Want. Me. To. Drive.” He snapped out the words, arms crossed and the most adorable pout on his face.

Chas stopped the car immediately, unbuckling his seatbelt. “Hell yes.”

  
  


* * *

  
  


Sam yawned as they drove through yet another town. He’d spotted two motels just on the drive through, and was really tempted to ask Zed to call the others so they could find a place to rest for the night. But he knew that the Rising Darkness was rising quicker than ever, and the faster they got to LA, the faster they could find Lucifer and put a stop to it all. “How d’you suppose we’re gonna find the devil in LA?” he asked, half to himself, not sure if Zed was still awake.

“Dunno,” she answered, to his delight. _At least I have someone to talk to still,_ Sam thought, casting a sidelong glance at the still-snoring Dean. Zed went on, “I mean, how low could he really lie, being the devil and all? I could read some newspaper articles, see if anything came up?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Sam said, “That sounds perfect.” There was a moment of silence, then Zed started laughing. Sam shushed her, fearing the wrath of Dean if he was woken up, and Zed giggled more quietly. “What is it?” Sam asked.

“Listen to this,” Zed huffed, “Apparently, one ‘Lucifer Morningstar’―I mean, how obvious can you get?―is the owner of a nightclub called Lux, and, according to this mass of articles I just skimmed, he helps out at the police station?”

Sam shrugged. “That actually makes a strange amount of sense. I mean, Lucifer’s job was to punish people who did wrong. I guess he’s just doing that, only in the more earthly way. With laws, and stuff.”

Zed let out a breath. “Lucifer, the Lord of Hell, obeying the laws of mankind as he puts away dangerous criminals.” Sam couldn’t help but grin at the sound of her laugh. She continued, “Never would’ve thought.”

Sam chuckled, more at Zed’s amusement than at the actual information she’d dredged up. “I’m not surprised that he kept his name, though. I mean, I doubt Lucifer would ever feel the need to have to hide amongst humans; not with his cocky and narcissistic attitude.”

“You’ve met him?” Zed asked, voice alight with interest. “I know John has, but he doesn’t like to talk about his visits to Hell. Scratch that, he doesn’t like to talk about anything.”

Sam couldn’t help but laugh at that, before answering, “Yeah, I met Lucifer. In a way. He kind of possessed me for a while.”

“No way,” Zed breathed, “You were Lucifer’s vessel?”

“For a bit,” Sam hurriedly added. “And not by choice. I tossed him in the pit, though, so I’m guessing he’s found a new vessel if he’s managed to break out.” Zed hummed thoughtfully, and when Sam looked in the mirror he saw her brow furrowed pensively. “What?” he asked, suddenly terrified that she would think of him any differently because of the fact that he was Lucifer’s vessel.

“Nothing,” Zed said, which only increased his worry before she added, “It’s just...the thought of meeting Lucifer. _The_ Lucifer. It’s pretty intimidating. At least to me; I guess this is just another average day for you guys.”

Sam chuckled. “Yeah, pretty much,” he sighed, relieved that Zed didn’t seem to be taking the new information in a bad way. He took a moment to wonder why this meant so much to him, then quickly dismissed it. _She’s part of our team now,_ he thought, a fond smile pulling at his lips.

“So how long d’you think this trip is gonna take?” Zed wondered aloud, laying on her side across the backseat. Sam found his eyes fixated on the way her dark curls tumbled across the Impala’s black leather seats.

“Not long,” he said quickly, after realizing he’d been silent for too long. “We’ve covered a lot of ground in one day, so I’m thinking if we continue at this night-and-day rate of driving, we should be there in...two, three more days?”

“And that’s assuming there’s no complications,” Zed reminded him, “And there’s _always_ complications.”

“Don’t say that,” Sam joked, “That’s just tempting fate.”

“I met Fate before,” Zed said thoughtfully, “She wasn’t very nice.”

Sam was quiet for a long moment before deciding, “I’m not even going to ask.”

  
  


* * *

  
  


John lit another cigarette, inhaling the smoke and feeling its burn deep in his lungs. “What are you doing, John?” a familiar voice suddenly asked.

John glanced over to where Chas had been sleeping to see Manny looking at him imploringly. John rolled his eyes. “Driving, smoking, talking to an angel…” he listed, “What does it look like I’m doing?”

Manny frowned. “It looks like you’re wasting your time. I thought you were going to fight the Rising Darkness.”

“I am,” John said tightly. “I don’t tell you how to do your damn job, now, do I?”

“You’re driving across the country, John,” Manny said in that disapproving way he says everything in, “The Rising Darkness started in Hell, why are you not there, putting a stop to it once and for all?”

“Because, in case you haven’t heard, you bloody angel, Lucifer’s apparently escaped Hell. So I’m off to find him, and put him back on the throne where he belongs. The Rising Darkness all started when he was put in the pit, and Crowley was left in charge.”

“How do you know all this?” Manny asked suspiciously. John sighed. _As if everything I know that you don’t is false information, eh?_ he complained inwardly.

“I’ve got my sources,” he frowned at the angel before turning back to the road and the red taillights of the Impala. “Now leave me alone and let me do my job. How’s about I’ll let you know when we find the bugger, and you can drag him down to Hell and take all the credit for it, yeah?” John turned back to look at Manny, only to see a sleeping Chas. “Bollocks,” he muttered. “Bloody angels.” He flicked his cigarette butt out the window, then lit another, inhaling all that wonderfully painful smoke.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> comments and kudos are greatly appreciated ^_^


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Unholy Trinity make their appearance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oops I forgot to update yesterday
> 
> Also I make up some stuff about John's age, just roll with it

Zed woke up to the buzzing of her phone, still in her hand. With a frown, she squinted at the too-bright screen to first read the time―7 in the morning, she’d been asleep for a while―then to read the text that Chas had sent her: _‘John says he feels some sort of evil force near? He doesn’t make much sense, but just keep an eye out, ok?’_

With a hum of mild concern, Zed texted back a quick _‘K’_ before sitting up and telling Sam, “Apparently John feels an evil force around here, so Chas says to keep an eye out.”

Sam rolled his eyes, adjusting his grip on the steering wheel. “I knew it couldn’t be this easy the whole trip,” he sighed. “Anyway, let him know we’re stopping for gas at the next station. They probably should, too.”

“Alright,” Zed said, dutifully relaying the information via text. After Chas replied with a _‘Good idea, we’re running a bit low, too’_ , she finally put her phone aside and looked out the window. The sun was just coming up, and the sky was hazy and still dim. “D’you think Dean would mind if I drew in his car?”

Sam shrugged. “Why not?” he grinned. “He’s still asleep, anyway.”

Zed happily reached back behind her to grab her bag, in which was her ever-present sketchbook and charcoals. She hurried to turn to a new page and immediately started drawing thick, bold lines across the paper, brow furrowed and lips slightly parted in concentration as she worked out the drawing, line by line, smudge by smudge, the picture slowly taking form in her mind’s eye as it did on the paper.

  
  


* * *

  
  


“It’s something big,” John was muttering, casting his eyes from side to side as he drove. “Something really big. Unnatural, too. Shouldn’t even exist, mate, I swear. And there’s something else, too―something that just reeks of Hell. Shouldn’t be on this Earth. It’s a problem, both of ‘em.”

“John, calm down,” Chas sighed, “I’m sure it’ll be fine. We’ve only got to stop for gas once and then we’ll be out of this area in no time; what’s the worst that could happen?”

“Oh, don’t even _say_ that,” John swung a wide-eyed look towards the brunet, and Chas just had to laugh. John frowned at him, then turned back to the road. “Looks like we found our gas station,” he muttered, watching the Impala pull off the road before following them.

“I’ll fill her up,” Chas offered, but John stepped out of the car with him after it was parked.

“Give me some cash, will ya, I need to buy some smokes,” John said, tapping his hand against his leg nervously as he waited for Chas to take out his wallet and hand over the money. Chas knew that John had a bunch of packs in his bag, but didn’t say anything as the on-edge magician hurried towards the convenience store.

“What’s up with him?” Zed asked, walking up to Chas and running a hand through her hair. Chas almost laughed at the charcoal stains on her hands, and the black smudges on her face.

“Nervous, I think,” Chas admitted, “He’s really on-edge about whatever it is he’s feeling here. Says there’s two different forces, one that’s apparently ‘unnatural and not meant to exist’”―he did the air quotes and everything―“and one that’s from Hell.”

“Ah,” Zed nodded. “Fun. When do we meet them?”

“Hopefully never,” Sam said, joining them as he waited for the Impala to fill up. Chas turned then to start putting gas in his own cab, while Dean emerged from the Impala, yawning.

“Sammy,” Dean greeted as he walked up, voice rough from sleep. “Give me some cash, will ya, I need to buy some pie.” Chas couldn’t help the laugh that escaped him at the parallels between Dean and John, as Sam reluctantly handed over some money and Dean strode into the store just as John came out, smoking a newly purchased cigarette.

“We done yet?” the blond said as soon as he was within earshot.

“No?” Sam frowned at him. “Why, is it the ‘evil force’ Zed was telling me about?”

John nodded, gaze flicking all around the otherwise abandoned gas station. “Something’s not right here. We need to go, fast as possible.” Chas wouldn’t admit it, but he felt the stirrings of fear in his chest at the thought of something making John so uncharacteristically serious.

“We’ll be fine,” Chas tried to calm him, “Just a few more minutes. Then this place will be in our rearview mirrors and we’ll be that much closer to LA.” Another car pulled into the gas station, shining purple in the sunlight. “That’s a nice ride,” Chas said appreciatively, in an attempt to distract John. But John only paled at the sight.

“It’s not right, it’s not right,” John muttered under his breath. “Something’s up, and I don’t like it.” Suddenly he pointed accusingly at the car, where the doors were just opening. “That car. Something...evil is in that car.”

Sam looked at him reverently. “You can just feel it?”

“It’s my connection to magic,” John explained hurriedly, his eyes narrowing as he watched three people exit from the car―the driver, a short woman in a snug dress, the passenger, a preacher man dressed in all black, and from the backseat, a pale man with a hoodie hiding his face and a black umbrella that popped open the second he stepped from the car. Suddenly John strode quickly over to them, just as the woman was beginning to fill up the car with gas and the umbrella man was making a beeline for the convenience store.

“John, wait,” Chas hissed, but the magician was already approaching the preacher man, who leaned against the car lazily and watched John walk up.

“You,” John pointed at the preacher, stopping a good five feet away from the man. “What are you?”

The man took a breath, adjusting his sunglasses before answering in a heavy southern accent, “A man, just like you. Why d’you ask?”

The woman stood next to him, arms crossed. “What are _you?_ ” she asked defensively, and the preacher put a hand on her arm, as if to hold her back.

John seemed confused by the preacher. Chas wondered if he should back him up, but wasn’t sure what he’d do or say, so opted to sit back and watch from afar with Sam and Zed. “You…” John frowned at him. “You’re different. Something’s not right about you. Why can’t I recognize it?”

“Do it,” the woman muttered. 

The preacher turned to her, eyebrows raised. “But you said I shouldn’t.”

“Well, after that incident in Mexico, I think you should do it before anyone gets shot!”

“Calm down, love, no one’s getting shot,” John interrupted them. “Just tell me what’s up with your boyfriend here, that’s all I need to know.”

When the preacher spoke again, his voice seemed different―louder, with a strange powerful echo to it, as if someone or something else was speaking through him. **“You don’t want to know what I am,”** he said, **“Go mind your own business and forget about us.”**

John visibly winced. “Ooh, that is some powerful force you got there, mate,” he let out a breath, cracking his knuckles. “Seems dangerous. I’m still not quite sure what you are, but I know for a fact that kind of power does not belong on this earth.”

Both the preacher and the woman seemed shocked. “It didn’t work?” the woman gaped. “Does that mean he’s like that...that what’s-his-face?”

“The Saint of Killers?” the preacher supplied. “I dunno. He might be from Hell.”

“You two met the Saint of Killers?” John stepped forward, apparently intrigued. “And you’re not dead? How’d you manage that?”

“We didn’t,” the woman spat, “He’s still after us. What do you know about him?”

“Everything,” John answered smugly. “But to ease your worries, love, I’m just a normal human being, not from Hell.” He turned back to where Chas was waiting with Sam and Zed to say, “Well, if they’re on the run from the Saint of Killers, I reckon we can trust ‘em, don’t you?”

Sam just gaped at them, Zed seemed lost, and Chas shrugged. “Whatever you say, John,” he sighed.

With that, John spun back to face the odd southern duo, grinning. “How’s about we sit and have a little chat, yeah?”

  
  


* * *

  
  


Jesse eyed the enigmatic blond before him, who seemed to be chain smoking worse than Cassidy and was wearing a trench coat despite the heat. He could feel Tulip’s silent questioning gaze, asking the same things he was asking himself: _Why the hell didn’t Genesis work on the guy?_ They all gathered inside the convenience store, much to the annoyance of the owner, who glared at them the whole time from behind the counter. Someone had bought beers, which Jesse grudgingly appreciated, and was passing them around as the man in the trench coat took a seat on the floor, the rest following his example.

“So who the hell are you?” Jesse asked, sitting cross-legged on the cool tile, allowing himself to relax slightly in the nice air-conditioned store.

“I’m John Constantine, exorcist, demonologist, and dabbler in the dark arts,” the man in the trench coat introduced himself, earning a few wide-eyed blinks from Tulip and a head tilt and a knowing smirk from Cassidy. John gestured to the side, going around his half of the circle. “And this is Zed Martin, psychic of sorts. Chas Chandler, cab driver. And Sam and Dean Winchester, hunters of malevolent spirits and other vicious creatures of the sort.” John turned his intense gaze onto Jesse then. “And who are you, mate?”

“Jesse Custer, preacher from Annville, Texas,” Jesse answered, “And this here’s Tulip O’Hare, and Cassidy, my friends.”

John cast his devilish grin on Cassidy. “Cassidy...you don’t happen to have a last name, eh?”

Cassidy let out a groan. “That’s the fifty-... _second_ time you’ve used that joke, and it’s not gotten any funnier since, mate.”

“Wait,” Zed cut in, “You two know each other?”

“Oh, yeah,” Cassidy waved a hand, smirking, “John here was the one who helped me out when I was first turnin’. Well, ‘helped’ may be a bit of an overstatement…”

John shrugged, unapologetic. “I was just testing your limits.”

Cassidy threw his hands in the air, before muttering something to himself and pulling a cigarette from his pocket, which he lit and took a quick drag of while Jesse shook his head at this new bit of information. “I never asked you about that,” Jesse said now, thoughtfully. “What _is_ your last name, Cass?”

Cassidy rolled his eyes while John snorted. “Didn’t we come here to discuss you and Genesis?” he quickly changed the track, but Jesse knew he’d tell him later, when he was drunk off his ass and begging for sex from either Jesse or Tulip in whatever ratty motel room they’d find to spend the night.

“Slow down,” Dean frowned at them, turning his distrustful glare onto Cassidy. “You said when you were ‘turning’...what are you, exactly?”

“Vampire,” John answered the question easily, sending shocked looks onto the Winchester’s faces, “But we came to discuss what Mr. Jesse Custer here is, so I think we should get back to that. So, preacher man…” John narrowed his eyes and lowered his voice. “What are you?”

“I’m a preacher from Texas,” Jesse answered with a sly grin. Then, deciding that he may as well tell the truth, seeing as how Cassidy already knew and apparently trusted John, he went on with a more serious note. “I’ve got this power...it’s called Genesis. It chose me for some reason, I don’t know why. It lets me make people do whatever I tell them to.”

Zed spoke up, “So it doesn’t work on deaf people?” she asked. Jesse shook his head. “What about if someone thinks you were talking to them, but you were really talking to someone else?”

“It works on the person I want it to work on,” Jesse quickly said, not wanting to play 20 Questions with this over-enthusiastic girl. “Unless there’s special...circumstances,” he said, turning to look pointedly at John.

John spread his hands innocently. “Sorry, mate, protection magic. There’s not much anyone can make me do, whether it’s a supernatural force from Hell or just another spell.”

“Cool,” Tulip rolled her eyes. “So now that we know what we all are, can we get going now? We got somewhere to be.”

“Where you headed?” Sam asked, leaning forward, still casting distrustful sidelong glances towards Cassidy.

Jesse and Tulip exchanged a secretive glance, wordlessly agreeing not to tell the truth, but Cassidy blurted out, “Los Angeles. We’re on a search for God and we heard Lucifer was there, so we figured we might be able to get some information.”

“Dammit, Cass,” Tulip sighed. Jesse gave the vampire an annoyed frown. _At least he didn’t mention how we were also planning on getting Lucifer to let Eugene out of Hell,_ the preacher thought with a huff. _That would’ve raised more questions, and more suspicion, especially about Genesis._

“Oh, sorry,” the Irish vampire said, not looking sorry at all. “Was that a secret?” Tulip only shook her head and took a swig of beer.

“You’re looking for God?” Zed frowned. “Is he not in Heaven?”

Jesse tilted his head in compliance; since Cass had already told them where they were going, Jesse might as well give them the whole story. “Apparently he’s abandoned Heaven, decided to take a vacation here on Earth. We’re going to find him, ask him a few questions, hopefully get him back up on his throne.”

“Sounds like what we’re trying to do,” Zed laughed, and John elbowed her in the side before she could say anything.

“Well, good luck with that,” John grinned at them, “We ought to part ways now, eh? Lovely meeting you two,” he nodded to Tulip and Jesse, then held out his hand to Cassidy. “Nice seeing you again, Cass,” he smirked, and the vampire shook his hand.

“I miss the fun times we used to have, Johnny boy,” Cass sighed. “And you don’t look any older than when I knew you, way back when. I reckon we could do all that shite again, eh, and our bodies would still hold up with all those drugs.”

John laughed. “I’m off the drugs now, mate,” he shook his head. “Stopped ‘em after one of my mates got addicted to heroin, ruined his life.” He got a faraway look in his eyes, and Jesse decided it was time to go.

“Well, nice meeting y’all,” Jesse said, hopping up and pulling Tulip and Cassidy off the floor.

“A pleasure,” Tulip said sarcastically.

“Call me,” Cassidy winked at John, who just gave him a tight smile and a cheeky wave in return.

“Off we go now,” Sam said loudly, grabbing John’s arm and practically pulling him from the vampire’s view.

“Good luck finding God,” Zed said sincerely, before Chas steered her towards the door and they followed Sam and John out to their cars.

  
  


* * *

  
  


“Jesus Christ, John, a vampire? Really?” Sam was hissing under his breath. “Don’t tell me you actually―”

“Think twice before you judge me,” John cut him off, “I heard you had more than a simple one night stand with a certain demon―”

“Where the hell did you hear that?” Dean suddenly interrupted them.

John shrugged, gave an innocent grin. “I have my ways,” he answered mysteriously.

Suddenly Zed snapped her fingers. “Oh!” she said, “I almost forgot. I had this vision in the car…” she opened the backseat of the Impala, pulling out her sketchbook and flipping to the newest drawing.

“Oh, bollocks,” John sighed. There was a moment of silence as everyone looked in awe at the drawing of the intimidating-looking cowboy, with long shaggy hair and a hat pulled low over his eyes, holding a pistol in each hand and wearing the grim face of somebody who’d rather murder someone than wait in line for a coffee. John lit another cigarette, taking a deep drag before announcing, “It’s the bloody Saint of Killers.”

Suddenly Dean let out a choked sound. “You used charcoal in my _car?_ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comment or leave kudos! :)


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oops I'm late in updating again, sorry

“So why didn’t you want to join them?” Zed asked John over the phone once she was back in the backseat of the Impala and they were speeding down the road. “They want the same thing we do, anyway.”

“Zed, put him on speaker,” Dean said from the driver’s seat. Zed complied, hurriedly tapping the button just before John answered.

“Because, love,” John sighed, “They’re on the run from the _Saint of Killers_. Unstoppable bloke, he is, and I’ve no idea how he escaped from Hell but I don’t like it. Someone obviously wants Genesis dead, and will go to dangerous lengths to get it done. Therefore, being around those three doesn’t seem to be of the best ideas at the moment.”

“Do you know what, exactly, Genesis is?” Sam asked.

“Afraid not,” John replied, “Thought it was just a legend. All I know for sure is what that preacher bloke told us. Either way, that kind of power can never be trusted.”

“But can the man be trusted?” Zed asked. “After all, he is with one of your old friends, right?”

John laughed at that, sounding strained even through the phone. “Let’s just say ol’ Cass isn’t the best decision maker when it comes to his mates. After all, he was close to me at a time, and we all know how that usually turns out for people.” Zed heard Chas’s low voice, but she couldn’t make out what he was saying. Then John came back on, “Gotta go for now, love. We’ll check in later, yeah?” Before Zed could answer, he hung up.

“Rude,” Sam snorted.

Dean chuckled. “Well, he is John Constantine.”

  
  


* * *

  
  


Cassidy lounged across the backseat of Tulip’s car. They’d waited a few minutes after John and his strange group of friends had left before getting back on the road themselves. “You knew that crazy guy?” Tulip frowned at Cass in the rearview mirror. “Who the hell is he, really?”

Cass waved a hand. “Just an old mate of mine. He’s real into magic and the occult, all that shite, so if I were you it’d be in my best interests not to get on his bad side. We were mates before I got turned, and he taught me what I was becoming and what my new limits were.” He frowned at the memory of John leaning in close, eyes shining with excitement, whispering, _‘You’re a vampire now, love. Oh, the things I could do to you…’_ Cassidy felt a shudder run through him as he remembered the rough, sultry sound of that voice…

“And did you know anyone else there?” Tulip was asking, and Cass shook himself back into the real world, shaking his head in response.

“Nah, they’d all be too young. I got turned near a hundred years ago, love,” he frowned, lighting a cigarette. “Though that Chas fellow did look mighty bloody familiar…”

Jesse spoke up now. “Then how the hell is that Constantine guy still alive and young? He’s not a vampire, too, is he?”

Cass shrugged. “Definitely not a vampire, no. Probably some magic shite, but honestly, who knows, with him. He’s a crazy bloke, I tell ya.”

Tulip hummed, thinking. “That Zed girl said something about being after the same thing we were, before John cut her off. If that ain’t suspicious, I don’t know what is.” She turned to look at Jesse. “And I don’t like how Genesis didn’t work on him.”

“Well,” Jesse sighed. “They’re not our problem anymore. Let’s just get to Los Angeles and question the devil before we encounter any more insane magicians.”

Cassidy said nothing, lost in thought. _That John was a crazy bloke,_ he chuckled inwardly, remembering the light of insanity that always showed itself in John’s eyes as they mixed their drugs, remembering the rebellious expression that always took its place on John’s face with every item they stole and every motel room they trashed. _I miss him._

  
  


* * *

  
  


“So, this vampire,” Chas started, not taking his eyes off the road as he drove. “How did you know him?”

John leaned his head back against the seat, exhaling cigarette smoke out the window. “Just an old mate,” he mumbled around the cigarette, “We did some drugs together, broke some laws together, may have slept together…it’s not a big deal, mate.”

Chas frowned, casting a sidelong glance at John, who had his eyes trained steadfastly out the window. “He seemed to think it was,” Chas muttered, remembering the way Cass’s gaze had seemed trained on John the whole time, remembering the way the vampire had licked his lips almost hungrily as he took ahold of John’s hand, remembering the way he had winked as he said _‘Call me’_ in that voice that seemed like its owner never got no for an answer.

John finally met his eyes, reaching over to run his fingers down Chas’s arm before grasping his hand. “But I never really _loved_ him,” John said, voice low and serious. “Not like I love you.” The blond raised Chas’s hand to his mouth, placing a quick kiss there before lowering it and shifting uncomfortably in his seat, as if embarrassed by his own actions.

Chas had to smile. “You’re adorable,” he sighed, delighted at the blush that swept across John’s cheeks at that. “I love you, too.”

John scrunched down in his seat, crossing his legs and focusing deeply on smoking his cigarette. He turned to look out the window again, but Chas could see the redness on his face in the reflection of the glass. The brunet turned away with a grin, focusing once more on driving. _I never_ really _doubt him,_ Chas thought to himself, _but the things he’ll do to prove that his love for me is real...it’s totally worth it to give him a hard time about it._ Of course, Chas knew from the beginning what kind of a man John was, and knew that he’d no doubt be encountering ex after ex, and he honestly didn’t mind it. Because, at the end of the day, he knew that he was the only one that John could ever open up to emotionally, and that’s all he could ever ask for from a man like him.

“Zed said she found some information on a Lucifer Morningstar living in LA,” John spoke, his voice uncharacteristically quiet and almost timid.

Chas gave a hum of acknowledgement, fighting to keep a straight face. “And what else did she find on this Lucifer?”

John shrugged, still not looking at Chas. “He owns a nightclub, he helps out at the LAPD…” he snorted. “I suppose you can take the devil out of Hell, but you can’t take the Hell out of the devil.”

“What do you mean?” Chas frowned.

“Ol’ Luci’s still out punishing the sinners, I suppose,” John chuckled. “A bit ironic, that he’s escaped Hell yet still wants to do his job, but I won’t judge the bugger. I’ve done crazier, eh?”

“Yes, you have,” Chas answered gravely. “You definitely have.”

  
  


* * *

  
  


It was just going on 11 at night when Zed’s phone rang, startlingly loud in the otherwise silent Impala. Dean jerked awake in the passenger seat, half-mumbling something about vampires. Zed groaned in annoyance as she woke up, and Sam watched with amusement as she slowly blinked herself back into the real world, dark eyes hazy with sleep. She answered her phone with a groggy, “What is it?”

Sam waited a few minutes until she ended the call with a “Mmkay, bye, Chas,” then put the phone down with a yawn.

“What did he want?” Sam prompted the tired-looking psychic, who rubbed her eyes before responding.

“Wants to rest up for a bit at the next motel we pass.”

Sam sighed in relief. “Thank God. I’ve been debating whether or not to wake you to ask them the same thing for the past hour or so.” Zed laughed, and Sam went on. “There’s another town coming up in about a mile or so, we should be there in a few minutes.”

Zed shifted across the backseat. “Ooh, I’ve missed beds,” she sighed, hooking one leg over the other and crossing her hands over her stomach. Sam tore his gaze from her, watching the road in front of him determinedly as Dean yawned and stretched beside him, casting suspicious glances between Sam and Zed, which Sam pretended not to notice.

“So,” Dean said, cracking his neck. “How’re we gonna split up the rooms? It’d be more expensive to get three, so I’m thinking...John and Chas in one, and us three in another?”

“Sounds good,” Zed mumbled tiredly, missing the exchanged glance between the Winchester brothers. “I’m just thankful you didn’t put me with those two.”

Sam narrowed his eyes at Dean, who grinned and waggled his eyebrows. Sam sighed, rolling his eyes and shaking his head, then turned back to the road just as they entered the town. “There’s a place!” Dean said almost immediately, and Sam pulled off the road into the gravel-coated parking lot of the Tucson City Motel. Zed sat up in her seat, glancing out the back window to see Chas’s cab following.

Zed yawned, hands fumbling with the door handle. “Let’s go get some real rest,” she grinned.

  
  


* * *

  
  


Tulip rubbed her eyes, sick of driving. “Next motel I see, we’re stopping,” she announced. Jesse mumbled something, still half-asleep, and Cassidy just kept on snoring. Tulip sighed. _What did I do to get stuck with these two?_ she thought, though she cast endearing smiles over the both of them. _I can’t help but love ‘em, though._

  
  


* * *

  
  


John couldn’t help but feel on-edge as Chas unlocked their room and the Winchesters settled in with Zed next-door. “I’m getting that feeling again,” he muttered, feeling a dark force interfering with the web of magic that connected everything. His hand twitched uncomfortably, and he tapped a cigarette out of the box and hurriedly lit it, taking a breath of the searing hot smoke.

“They’re probably right on our tail,” Chas said matter-of-factly, “They’re headed the same way as us, anyway.”

John groaned, rubbing his temples. “How close are we to LA?”

Chas sighed, took out his phone. After a few moments, he said, “About seven and a half hours. We should get there tomorrow, no problem.” He gave John a sly smirk. “You don’t even have to drive again.”

John tried to smile at the jab, but the disturbing presence was getting on his nerves. He could feel the danger tingling in each cell of his body, warning him, but there was nothing he could do about it. He shook his head. “Give me your keys,” he sighed, “I’ve got to get some whiskey out of the car.”

  
  


* * *

  
  


Cassidy sulked outside the motel room that Tulip and Jesse had just kicked him out of. _‘No weed in the room, they’ll smell it,’_ Tulip had hissed, shoving him out the door. _‘We don’t need the cops on our tail, too.’_ Cass leaned against the door, smoking his joint with a frown. A man walked quickly down the hall, nearly jumping over Cassidy’s outstretched legs to get to the exit. “Oi!” Cassidy called out, but the man was already gone. “Rude bugger,” Cass muttered.

It wasn’t long before the man came back in, and Cassidy’s eyes widened as he saw who it was. John Constantine, wrapped in that ever-present trench coat, now carrying a rather large bottle of whiskey, with a worried frown on his face and a lost look in his eyes as he hurried past. Cass reached out and grabbed his wrist, and the magician nearly jumped out of his skin. The whiskey bottle left his hand as he leapt back from Cassidy, who hurriedly caught the bottle before it could fall, letting go of John’s wrist. “Relax, Johnny,” Cass said, surprised at the response, “It’s me.”

“Bollocks,” John muttered, taking the bottle back. “I should’ve known.” He pointed at the door that Cassidy was leaning against. “I’m guessing the preacher bloke is in there?” Cass nodded, still confused, and John sighed. “That Genesis gives me a real bad feeling, mate. I don’t trust it.”

Cassidy patted the ground beside him, and John sat with a sigh. “It’s alright,” Cass said, “Genesis ain’t no good thing―got a kid stuck in Hell, it did.”

“Did it, now?” John looked at him with renewed interest. “How’d that happen?”

Cass shrugged, not sure how much he was supposed to give away. “It was an accident. Jesse lost control. This kid, Eugene―nice bloke, once ya get over the arseface―anyway, he kept telling Jesse that using Genesis was wrong, that it was a sin. Jesse told him to go to Hell, and...well, he did. That’s one of the reasons we’re after Lucifer, to fix this. Get that kid out, back up here where he belongs.”

John let out a soft hum of understanding. “How’d Jesse take it?”

“Feels awful,” Cassidy shook his head. “Of course. He’s a preacher, after all, always trying to do the right thing, trying to save everyone’s souls. So once he found out that the Lucifer was on Earth, and might be able to get Eugene out...well, we were on the road. This whole ‘looking for God’ thing he’s also got going on...I almost feel like that’s just a cover. He just wants to fix his mistakes, save the world.”

“Don’t we all,” John sighed, staring at his bottle of whiskey but making no move to open it.

“Heard something similar happened with you,” Cassidy prompted, “Newcastle?”

John glared at him, and Cass could almost feel the air growing thicker, the magical energy electrifying the space between them. The vampire held up his hands in surrender, muttering, “Sorry, sorry.” There was a moment of silence before Cass asked, “So, how you been, Johnny? It’s been...what, fifty years since we last saw each other?”

“Must be,” John leaned his head back against the wall, a faint smile on his face. “Those were the good days, eh? Before all this shite turned to...well, shite.”

“Mm,” Cassidy nodded in agreement, bobbing his head up and down without really knowing what he was agreeing to. It was hard to focus on each individual word that left John’s mouth, when his voice itself was so tantalizing and demanding of attention. Cass turned a smile onto the magician. “You haven’t changed a bit, Johnny.”

John let out a dark chuckle. “Oh, I’ve changed, Cass. I’ve changed more than you think.”

Cassidy shifted, flicking his burnt-down joint away and focusing his intense gaze on John’s face. “How much have you changed?” the vampire breathed, “Enough that you don’t want me anymore?” He reached out a hand, placing it on John’s knee, where it could easily be explained as a platonic touch, should his plans go awry.

John seemed to know exactly what he was doing, though, and gently removed Cass’s hand. “Sorry, mate,” John grinned, “But I’m already spoken for.”

“No,” Cass breathed, eyes wide as saucers. “You? John Constantine? Spoken for?” He blinked a few times. “Did I get too high? Am I hallucinating?”

John chuckled, gave him a pat on the shoulder before standing up and grabbing his unopened bottle of whiskey. “Nope, that’s the truth, mate. Well, I’m off to enjoy this with my significant other, so...enjoy your night, Cassidy.” He winked, then strode down the hall to his room. Cass watched him go, mouth agape. _No way,_ he thought. _No bloody way._

Suddenly the door he was leaning against opened, and he fell back with a yelp of surprise. Tulip and Jesse frowned down at him. “What was all that about?” Jesse asked, a light of curiosity in his eyes.

“You two were eavesdropping, eh?” Cassidy tried to joke, but his tongue felt like cotton in his mouth, his brain still shocked by the news that John bloody Constantine was somehow no longer a single man.

“Well, you were right outside our door,” Tulip rolled her eyes. “And these walls are like cardboard. So yeah, we couldn’t help but hear what you were sayin’. So what, you really had a thing with the guy?”

Cassidy shrugged. “I suppose you could call it that. But...wow,” he said with a laugh. “I never would’ve thought...not _him,_ of all people…” he trailed off, lost in a world of wonderment.

Jesse and Tulip exchanged glances. “Well,” Jesse sighed. “Let’s get you inside. We’ve only got a few hours to sleep, then we have to get back on the road.” He frowned down at the vampire. “And stop telling them so much. You might trust John, but we don’t know anything about the other people he’s keeping around him.”

“Alright,” Cass mumbled, “Got it. Don’t talk to the insane and sexy magician. I can handle that.”

  
  


* * *

  
  


Back in their motel room, Chas watched as John poured himself a generous amount of alcohol. “Something’s coming,” John muttered, downing the drink, then pouring a second. “Between Zed’s vision and the fact that Genesis is right here...something’s coming, Chas, and I hope to God it isn’t the Saint of Killers but...bollocks, with our luck, it probably is.”

  
  


* * *

  
  


Dean woke up to the sound of shooting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and kudos are greatly appreciated!! (I'll try to keep to my updating schedule, sorry for all the delays lol)


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, I'm actually on time this week! Also this chapter is super short, sorry about that :P

_Bang! Bang! Bang-bang! Bang!_ Dean jolted awake, leaning across his bed to hit Sam in the arm, but the younger Winchester was already sitting up, a nervous-looking Zed snapping up right beside him. “Gun,” Dean gasped, nearly jumping out of his bed to quickly pull on some jeans and grab the keys to the Impala. He turned to Sam and Zed, who were scrambling to get out of the bed. “You two stay here,” Dean ordered, “I’m going to grab some weapons from the car. Don’t move.”

Opening the door carefully, Dean swept his gaze from side to side. Seeing no imminent threat, he bolted to the parking lot, opening his baby’s trunk and grabbing three pistols, already loaded, as well as three extra pre-loaded magazines. Wasting no time, he sprinted back to the room, hearing a few more shots and the sound of glass shattering. “What the hell!” he gasped, slamming the door behind him and tossing the weapons and ammo at Sam and Zed.

“Saint of Killers?” Zed guessed, quickly checking her magazine before sliding one in the chamber. Sam seemed impressed at her knowledge of the weapon, but quickly focused on loading his own weapon.

“Very likely,” Dean groaned. “Of _course_ we have to fight some psycho killer from Hell. Because when can things just be simple for us, huh?”

“What about John and Chas?” Zed asked, brow furrowed with concern.

“I’m sure John can protect the both of them,” Sam said, patting her shoulder slightly awkwardly. Dean almost rolled his eyes at that. _Come on, Sammy, you can do better than that._ Sam turned towards Dean, and the older Winchester refocused as Sam asked, “Did you see him? Where is he?”

“I don’t know,” Dean let out a frustrated breath, heart still racing from the adrenaline-fueled sprint to the car and back. “I didn’t see anything, just heard the shots. Sounds like he’s at the end, and he’s coming across room by room. He’d hit John’s room before ours, so―” suddenly he stopped, hearing a loud slam from the room next door. “Oh, shit,” he breathed, “He’s there already.”

Dean ran to the door, exchanging glances with Sam and Zed, who both nodded, before Dean slammed the door open and ran to John’s room. There stood the cowboy, just like Zed had drawn him, his bloodied saber pointed at John, who had that stupid smirk on his face and was talking in a low, serious voice.

“I don’t care,” the cowboy growled, interrupting John’s quickly-flowing words. Dean glanced over to see Chas holding a pistol down at his side, eyeing the Saint of Killers. Probably plan B, in case John was unable to win the guy over. The cowboy stalked forward, leveling his saber at John’s throat. “Where is the preacher?” he snapped.

“Well, what kind of preacher are you looking for, mate?” John cocked his head to the side. “I’ve met lots of preachers in my days, you’re gonna have to be a little more specific.”

“He’s a preacher,” the cowboy ground out, “Dressed in all black. Has a southern accent. Accompanied by a woman with the same accent and an Irish man. Speaks with the power of Genesis.” He pushed the blade against John’s throat. “Sound familiar?”

John pretended to be thinking. _What the hell are you doing?_ Dean inwardly screamed. _We don’t owe that damn preacher anything! Just tell him we saw him yesterday, and know where he’s headed!_ But no, John seemed to have different plans. “I don’t think I’ve met that one, no,” the magician grinned. “But good luck on your search, mate. I hope you find the bastard, and give him hell for whatever it is he did.”

With a growl of anger, the cowboy pulled back, preparing to swing the sword into John’s neck. Chas, Dean, Sam, and Zed all shot at the same time, but the shots didn’t even slow him down. Suddenly someone ran past Dean into the room, shouting, “Wait!” Dean blinked twice. _Well, speak of the devil,_ he thought.

The preacher, Jesse Custer, if Dean remembered correctly, was standing before the Saint of Killers, panting. “I know what you want,” he said in that heavy accent of his. “I can help you get it.”

The cowboy turned his blade onto Jesse. “I want to kill you,” he said between his teeth, “Then I get what I want.”

“It’s not gonna happen.” Jesse didn’t seem to be worried about possible death. In fact, he seemed overly confident, and that worried Dean. “Fiore is dead. He can’t deliver his end of the bargain anymore. And God isn’t in Heaven anymore. No matter what you do here, you’ll never get what you want. But I can give it to you.”  
The Saint seemed to be intrigued, and asked roughly, “You know what I need?”

Jesse reached into his pocket, pulling out a small glass vial. “I have it. Right here.”

With a wide-eyed glance from the vial back to Jesse, the cowboy reached out a hand and snatched up the vial. “Where did you get it?” he asked, opening it and dumping the contents―a light blue-ish stone thing―into his palm. When Jesse didn’t answer, the Saint smiled at him, all teeth. “It’s yours, isn’t it.” Jesse stayed silent, and the Saint put the stone in his mouth, crunching down.

Dean looked at Jesse, but the preacher’s eyes were trained on the cowboy. Dean looked at John, wondering if he had any idea what the hell was going on, but the magician seemed just as intensely focused on the Saint. Zed whispered from behind Dean, “What is happening?” Dean gave a shrug in response, not wanting to say anything aloud and startle the scary-looking cowboy.

Suddenly Jesse spoke again. **“Disarm yourself.”** With a gasp, the Saint of Killers tossed his two pistols and bloodied sword to the ground. **“On your knees. Don’t move.”** The cowboy obeyed without question, then glared up at Jesse. The preacher walked closer, looking down at the Saint. “The only living person without a soul…” he said softly. “That’s why Genesis didn’t work on you. But now…” Jesse grinned.

John clapped from where he’d sat down on the bed during the exchange. “Bloody brilliant, I’d say,” John nodded appreciatively. “You’re a right smart bugger, Jesse Custer. What are you going to do with him now, send him back to Hell?”

Jesse cast a wide-eyed glance at John. “With one percent of my soul in him? No way,” he laughed. “I’m gonna keep him right here on this Earth, in a place where he’ll never hurt anyone else.”

  
  


* * *

  
  


Cassidy never asked where Jesse had put the Saint of Killers, and he probably never would. All he knew was that Genesis had saved their arses once again, and now their most dangerous obstacle had been taken off the board. With the Saint of Killers gone, however, John had proposed a team-up. Turned out Constantine and his new friends were on a search for Lucifer, same as them. _Tricky little bastard, that one,_ Cass inwardly laughed, _wanted the same thing as us the whole time, but didn’t think it’d be worth the trouble that the bloody cowboy might bring._

Now, Tulip sped down the road, following the yellow cab that Chas and John were in, with the black Impala riding behind them. “At this rate,” Jesse rolled down the window to exhale smoke, “we should be there in about five hours, don’tcha think?”

“Yup,” Tulip said, eyes trained on the road.

Cassidy stayed silent, wondering why John wanted to find Lucifer. _I know his soul is damned to Hell...but it’s not like he’s going to die anytime soon. Maybe it’s about that Newcastle incident...yeah, he accidentally damned a little girl, according to that nun I talked to a while back. That’s probably why John was so understanding about Jesse’s blunder with Eugene._ He frowned, deep in thought now. _But he wouldn’t bring so many people along if he was going to fix one of his own blunders, it’s not like him...none of this is like him._

“Cass, you listening?” Jesse asked loudly, and Cassidy blinked to see the preacher waving a hand in front of his face.

“Yeah, yeah,” Cass nodded. “What’d ya say, mate?”

Jesse sighed, exchanging an exasperated glance with Tulip. “I _said,_ you don’t look so good. What’s going on?”

“Ah, I’m fine,” Cass grinned. “Don’t worry about me, love.”

“You know I’ll always worry.” He leaned over the seat, taking Cassidy’s chin and pulling him in for a kiss. “Better?” he asked when he pulled away, all dark eyes and handsome face and sexy hair.

“Maybe,” Cass couldn’t help smiling at the sight of Jesse. That preacher, always trying his damndest to save every soul, even one as far gone as Cassidy’s. It warmed the vampire’s cold, dead heart.

“I’d give you a kiss, too,” Tulip piped up, not wanting to be left out, “But I’m driving right now, and I don’t want to risk crashing my car, so you’ll just have to wait until we get there.”

Cassidy laughed. “It’s fine, love,” he smiled, “It’s the thought that counts, yeah?”

  
  


* * *

  
  


“Here we are,” John stretched as best he could in the passenger seat, putting one of his feet up on the dashboard. “City of Angels, good ol’ Los Angeles.”

“John, get your foot off my dash,” Chas sighed. “D’you have any idea where we’re going to stay?”

“Uh,” John thought for a moment. “I have a few mates around here...but I reckon for now, we visit Lux, see what we can find. We’ll figure out the rest later.”

“Right,” Chas rolled his eyes. “Because that’s unimportant.”

“Exactly, love,” John grinned, purposely ignoring Chas’s sarcasm. He grabbed his phone, quickly calling Zed. “Hullo, Zed,” he greeted when she picked up, “We’re going to meet at Lux, yeah?” 

“What about where we’re going to stay?” Zed asked.

John rolled his eyes. “Why is that so important? Let’s just find Luci, then we can figure out all the details of our stay, ok, love?”

“Ok,” Zed sighed. “Bye, John.”

John hung up, then called Cassidy. “Cass,” he said, “We’re meeting up at Lux, it’s the nightclub that Lucifer supposedly owns.”

“Ooh, the devil owns a nightclub?” Cassidy sounded intrigued. “Well, that oughta be fun.”

“Mm,” John wordlessly agreed, before hanging up. Then he googled the directions and started reading them aloud to Chas.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyyy, so I kinda forgot to update this...anyway, here's another chapter

“Here we are,” John breathed as he got out of the cab, angling his head from side to side to crack his neck before adjusting his trench coat and striding towards the night club. Chas hurriedly locked the car, then followed him as he strode right up to the door, trying it and finding it locked. The Winchesters, Zed, and the Genesis trio rushed to park and follow John up to the door. 

“Nightclub,” Dean reminded John. “Won’t open until it’s...well, night.”

“I know that,” John rolled his eyes, then tapped his finger on the handle, muttering a quick spell under his breath. He felt the lock obediently move out of place, and pushed the door open, mock bowing and gesturing for everyone to file in, which they did.

“Neat trick,” Tulip said as she passed, giving John an appreciative once over. John merely smiled in response, curbing his initial instinct to flirt and instead waiting for her to pass so he could enter, closing the door neatly behind him and locking it again.

The group filed down the dimly-lit stairs and moved about the empty tables, searching for anything that might prove that this place belonged to the real Lucifer. John caught sight of a figure at the bar, watching them silently, and he approached quickly. “Is that Mazikeen?” he grinned as he came closer, sliding onto one of the bar stools. “My, my, Earth has done wonders for your complexion, love,” John leaned forward, enjoying the slightly amused look she was giving him. “How’ve you been, Maze?”

She sighed, seeming completely unsurprised at the appearance of John and the rest of them as she grabbed a glass and dropping some ice into it. “Same old, same old,” she smirked, pouring a drink for the magician as Chas sat beside him and the rest of the group slowly moved closer to the bar. She gave John a sharp look as she slid his drink across the bar. “But don’t even think about going about your usual routine, John. _I_ have a boyfriend now.”

John sipped the drink appreciatively. “Do you, now?” he asked, feigning shock. “Why, Maze, I’m proud of you! What’s his name? Give me all the little details.” He leaned in with a devilish grin.

“Well,” Maze smiled, “He’s tall, black, handsome, has the silkiest black wings and the most angelic smile.”

“Oh?” John finished his drink. “Sounds like someone I know. Lucifer’s brother, by any chance?”

“Oh, yes,” Maze sighed. “Amenadiel. He’s perfect. It took all my little tricks, but I eventually got him to disobey his father’s silly little rules and give into the lust.”

“Sounds just like you, love,” John raised his glass to her. “Match made in Heaven, I’d say.” The rest of the group had sat down and was waiting in silence as John got Maze to loosen up.

“So, John Constantine,” Maze leaned across the bar. “Why are you here?” She glanced from side to side. “And with so many... _acquaintances,_ nonetheless. Last I saw you, you were working alone. Like you always did.”

“Not anymore, love,” John sighed. “This one’s too important, see. Now, I’d love to have a talk with my old friend Luci. Do you know where your boss is now?”

“Oh, he’ll be here,” Maze grinned. “He’ll be here real soon.” She leaned back, calling, “Trixie!” A little girl scampered out of one of the back rooms, stopping before Maze. The demon ruffled her hair before pointing to the glasses beneath the countertop. “Pour them some drinks, just like I taught you, ok? One for each of them.”

“Ok, Maze,” the girl grinned, then set about happily serving drinks.

John gave Maze a look, and the demon spread her hands, eyes widening innocently. “What? Her mom told me to babysit. She’s pretty useful, for human spawn.”

John chuckled, shaking his head. “Never change, love.”

“So, while we’re waiting for Lucifer to get here,” Maze slid a barstool up behind her, and took a seat opposite John. “Why don’t you introduce me to your new friends?”

“‘Course,” John nodded, glancing down the bar. “At the end there’s the Winchester brothers; short one on the end is Dean, then Sam. Then we’ve got Zed Martin, and Chas Chandler.” John turned to his other side. “And this here’s Cassidy―no last name”―this prompted a snort from the vampire, and John let out a short chuckle of his own―“then there’s Jesse Custer, and Tulip O’Hare.” He turned back to Maze. “And I suppose you know me.”

“Interesting,” Maze murmured, her gaze flicking from Zed to Cassidy to Jesse. She pointed at Zed. “You’re a psychic,” she announced, then turned to Jesse, “You’re housing Genesis,” then turned to Cassidy with a smile. “And you’re Proinsias Cassidy, hundred and nineteen-year-old vampire from Dublin City.” John started laughing at that, thunking his head down on the bar. 

“Cassidy is your _last_ name?!” Jesse and Tulip said in unison, disbelief evident in their voices.

“Say it again,” John sniggered, “Say it again, Maze.”

Cassidy threw his hands up. “You know what!” His voice was high with annoyance. “You damn demons and your inability to keep secrets. I mean, even John Constantine could keep from sayin’ it all the bloody time. But not you, Maze, never you!” 

“Wait, wait,” Tulip cried, tears in her eyes from the laughter. “How did you say it? Pron―Pronshis?”

“Proinsias,” Cassidy crossed his arms and glared at them defensively. “It’s a perfectly respectable Gaelic name from my time!”

“Is that Proinsias Cassidy I hear?” a sultry British voice suddenly floated from the front of the club. “My, this is quite a group of people. Maze, what is this, a birthday party?”

John spun around to see Lucifer― _the_ Lucifer. Not just another vessel, not a human body possessed by Lucifer, but actually Lucifer, as he appeared in Hell―well, when he wasn’t busy being a scary red monster. “Luci?” John asked. “How the hell are you here? Without a vessel?”

Lucifer gasped, “John _Constantine?_ ” then rushed forward to envelope the magician in a hug.

“Oh―ok, that’s enough of that, mate,” John patted the devil’s shoulder, voice muffled by the expensive suit jacket he was wearing. “Alright, that’s enough,” he finally pushed Lucifer back.

“Constantine, Constantine,” Lucifer grinned, dark eyes gleaming red for a moment. “You look just like you did when I last saw you. How long ago was that, when you came in to watch your father being tortured?”

John could sense the surprise around the room, but he ignored it as he answered, “Too long, Luci, too long. Anyway, I came to talk to you about a very important...issue.”

“Oh?” Lucifer walked around the bar, pulling up a stool next to Maze as Trixie handed him a drink. “Oh, thank you, Trixie dear,” Lucifer nodded to her as he took the drink. “Now, why don’t you go upstairs while we wait for your mum to come back, ok?”

Maze hissed, “Where is Chloe? Trixie’s been here _all day._ ” Trixie skipped to the elevator in the corner and hummed as she waited for the doors to open, rocking back and forth on her feet.

“Well, she’s helping out, isn’t she?” Lucifer raised his drink in the girl’s defense. “Besides, Chloe should be here any minute now. She has something against speeding, apparently,” he scoffed, then took a sip of his drink.

Zed spoke up from the end of the bar. “Who is that girl?” she asked.

Maze answered. “A daughter of a friend,” she said simply. “My roommate, actually.”

Dean let out a breath. “This just gets weirder and weirder,” he huffed.

  
  


* * *

  
  


Jesse frowned throughout the entire exchange, waiting impatiently for John to start really questioning the devil. _I need a chance to talk to him about Eugene,_ he thought, clenching and unclenching his fist throughout the greetings and social talk. John went around another time, introducing them all to Lucifer, and when Lucifer looked like he was about to start a full-length conversation with Sam Winchester, Jesse finally spoke up, tired of all the wait. “So, Lucifer,” he asked, and the man turned to look at him with raised eyebrows. “Why aren’t you in Hell anymore?”

“Now, that’s the question, isn’t it?” Lucifer grinned, leaning back in his chair. “I always meant to get out of that place. It was my punishment, to stay down there for all eternity. But once I got out of power, then _this_ one”―he pointed to Sam―“got me locked up in the pit, Maze here helped me out and I was able to come to Earth without any of the usual baggage.” He nodded to John, referring to his earlier question as he added, “Such as needing a vessel.”

“Wait,” Jesse leaned forward, “So right now, you have no control over what happens in Hell?”

“Of course not,” Lucifer laughed in delight, “And you wouldn’t _believe_ the trouble my brother went through to try and convince me to go back. But I’m never going to go back to that place. I always resented my father for sending me there, and now that I’m out, every day I spend on Earth is a middle finger to that bastard.” His eyes glowed red briefly.

Jesse couldn’t help the stab of disappointment he felt. _But what about Eugene?_ a faraway voice called from the back of his head, but he pushed it down for the moment to focus on his other goal. He could feel the sympathetic glances from Tulip and Cassidy, but he ignored them and met the devil’s eyes once more. “That’s the thing,” he said, “God isn’t in Heaven. We’re looking for him; d’you have any idea where he could’ve gone?”

Lucifer looked shocked, then angry. “Dad’s abandoned Heaven?” he repeated, his entire image flickering red for a moment. “Why, that hypocritical―”

“Lucifer!” a voice called, and Lucifer immediately calmed, his image stilling.

“Detective?” he called out, and Jesse turned to see a lithe blonde walking into the club. Lucifer smiled at her. “Trixie’s upstairs, most likely getting her dirty little fingerprints all over my piano again.”

“Great. Thanks, Maze,” the woman said, nodding first to the demon, then to the devil. “Lucifer.” She glanced at the array of people seated across the bar, her gaze lingering on Jesse―particularly on his clerical collar―then she shook her head with a soft sigh. “I’m not even going to ask,” she murmured, then headed for the elevator.

“Your spawn’s getting better at mixing drinks,” Maze offered, as the woman waited for the doors to open. “She could stay at night, help us out a bit. I could pay her some.”

“Thanks, Maze, but no,” the woman laughed a little uneasily, then stepped into the elevator as soon as the doors dinged open. 

When they closed again, Jesse turned back to Lucifer, who seemed to have calmed down substantially. “So,” Lucifer said, clearing his throat. “If Dad’s really come down to Earth...I’m definitely not the right person to be asking. He’d never come visit me. But I do know a few people he might.”

“Who?” Jesse pressed.

“Well, my brother for one, Amenadiel. He was always Dad’s favorite. And―though this may be a long shot―my mother.”

“Your mother?” John repeated incredulously. “She’s out of Hell, too?”

“Yeah,” Lucifer sighed. “No idea how she did it, but she’s here, alright. Trying to fit into the human way of life. Not doing a very good job at it, either.”

Maze harrumphed beside him. “And you wouldn’t even let me torture her, not even a little bit,” she sulked, her eyes getting glassy. “That bitch, finally in a human body...all the ways I could’ve made her bleed, and bruise...all the appendages I could’ve cut off…”

“That’s enough now, Maze,” Lucifer warned. “Not in the present...company,” he said, smiling uneasily at the Winchesters, who were eyeing Maze with a predatory look in their eyes. “Anyway,” Lucifer leaned forward, pulling the attention away from his demon sidekick, “I can take you to them tomorrow, yeah? In the meantime…” he gestured to the elevator. “I have plenty of guest rooms upstairs, if you’d like.”

John smiled, standing up. “We’d love to, mate. Can always count on you to provide sleeping arrangements, eh?”

Jesse slid off of his own stool, hearing Zed laugh to John, “So _that’s_ why you didn’t want to check into a motel before we got here?”

“What?” John said indignantly. “I just think ahead, is all. Besides, the rooms here’ll be better than any old motel room, don’tcha think? With the look of this place?”

“Come alone, now,” Lucifer called mockingly, as if herding in his flock of sheep, “I’ll lead you to your rooms.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've got 4 more chapters that I only need to beta, so hopefully I can get those out quickly...then I'm not sure how long my updates will take after that lol
> 
> If you're still here, thanks for reading so far, and leave a comment or kudos!


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> My boy Amenadiel makes his appearance \\(^o^)/

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posting this chapter early ^_^

Chas followed Lucifer and Maze as they walked the group down the hallway of guest bedrooms. He wondered why John didn’t mention the Rising Darkness, but decided not to question the seasoned con man. Jesse, Tulip, and Cassidy all took one room, which Chas was a little surprised about but didn’t comment on. Sam and Dean took one together, which Chas figured was normal, them being brothers and all, and Zed took one for herself. Finally, Lucifer gestured to the master bedroom. “And here’s mine,” he grinned, gaze fixated on John.

“Sorry, love,” John laughed. “But I’m spoken for now.” Somehow Chas wasn’t surprised that John had slept with the devilishly handsome devil himself.

“Really?” Lucifer raised his eyebrows, and even Maze looked shocked.

“Yup,” John grinned, pulling Chas forward. “I belong to this man here.”

Lucifer eyed Chas up and down, letting out a hum of approval. “I see,” he said softly. “Well, John Constantine, I’m glad you’ve found someone at last. Though I can’t say I won’t miss our nights together…” he trailed off, looking at John expectantly, but the magician shook his head with a smile. “Anyway,” Lucifer sighed. “I guess you can take this room here.” He gestured to another guest bedroom. “And John?” he called out before they walked in. John looked back, and Lucifer said quietly, “I’m glad. That you’re happy.”

John rolled his eyes, then walked up to give the devil a hug. “Thanks, mate,” John said, “And I wish you the best of luck with your detective friend.”

Lucifer pulled back. “How did you―?”

“Come on, Luci,” John grinned. “It was obvious just by the way you looked at her. Seriously, though, I hope you find happiness, too.”

“Thanks, John,” Lucifer smiled.

“And a word of advice,” John added, tossing a glance at Chas before looking back at Lucifer. “First step, stop having meaningless sex with strangers. Then, just…” he looked back at Chas again, then said with a soft smile, “Just accept your feelings, mate. That’s the easiest way.” He looked back at Lucifer. “People like you and me, we...we push emotions way down. But you need to accept the fact that...that you _can_ love someone and be loved back.” He paused, and Chas saw a veil of moisture glistening in Lucifer’s eyes. Then John clapped him on the shoulder and glanced to the side, clearing his throat. “Well. Good luck, anyways.”

Lucifer laughed, but it sounded tight and forced. “Thank you, John,” he said again. “Really. Thanks.”

“Anytime, mate,” John waved as he turned away. “Anytime.”

  
  


* * *

  
  


Zed sat cross-legged on her bed, dragging her charcoal across the page, stopping to smudge at the dark lines every once in a while. An image began to take shape, and after a few minutes she frowned at it. _It looks like...Sam,_ she thought with a twinge of worry. _A vision about Sam?_ She hurriedly finished the picture, then examined it. There didn’t seem to be any imminent danger present in the image, just a rough sketch of Sam Winchester’s profile; eyes staring determinedly ahead, mouth set in a tense line, long hair curled behind his ear.

“What the hell,” Zed murmured. “Why would I have a vision like that?” She flipped to a new page and began drawing again, letting her gift guide her hand across the paper.

Five drawings later, and she was still puzzling over the different images of the younger Winchester brother. _There’s nothing,_ she frowned, _no danger, no action of any sort going on, nothing in the background, just...Sam._ Even when she’d first begun having visions of just John, there was always something going on, something to indicate where he was or what he was doing. But this time, it was all blank.

There was a soft knock on her door, and she called out, “Come in.” Expecting John, and hoping to ask him about the possibilities behind the visions, she glanced up only to see the man she’d been drawing for the past half hour. “Oh, Sam,” she greeted him awkwardly.

“Sorry, is this a bad time?” he hung in the door frame hesitantly.

“No, no,” Zed laughed. “Come in. I just wasn’t expecting it to be you, that’s all.”

“Ah,” Sam nodded, entering and closing the door softly behind him. He gestured to her sketchbook, which was open. “What are you drawing?”

“You, actually,” Zed said, patting the bed next to her. Sam sat down, brow creased, looking at the images as she flipped through. “It’s strange,” she murmured, “There’s nothing at all besides you. It doesn’t feel like a real vision, it feels...different. I don’t know why. I was hoping to ask John about it.”

“Huh,” Sam frowned. “That does sound odd. You don’t think I’m in some sort of danger or something, do you?”

Zed shrugged. “I don’t know, that’s the thing. There’s nothing in the drawings to invoke any feelings of danger or anything. There’s literally nothing to go on.”

“Want to go ask John about it?” Sam suggested, and Zed nodded and stood up, sketchbook in hand.

  
  


* * *

  
  


“Quit stealing all the blankets,” Tulip yanked them back good-naturedly, laughing.

“Oh, now you’re stealing ‘em all,” Cassidy countered, pulling them back with a sharp tug that dragged Tulip halfway across the bed, nearly into Jesse’s lap.

“You’re both children,” Jesse sighed, centering the blankets over the three of them. “I can’t believe I love you two idiots.”

“Hey, that’s my line,” Tulip snorted, then leaned over Jesse to give Cass a goodnight kiss. “Goodnight, Cass,” she mumbled, then leaned down to kiss Jesse as well. “Goodnight, Jess,” she sighed, then leaned back against the bed. “Love you guys.”

“‘Night, loves,” Cassidy said jokingly, shifting onto his side and hooking a leg over Jesse’s. Jesse sighed, wrapping one arm around Cassidy’s shoulders and pulling him close, knowing how the vampire loved his attention. Then he reached his other hand over to rest over Tulip’s, knowing she liked her space.

“Goodnight,” Jesse sighed, content.

  
  


* * *

  
  


“So you’re telling me...these weren’t visions?” Zed frowned at John in confusion. John sighed, then waved his hands at Chas and Sam in a shooing motion.

“Both of you, out. Out, out, that’s it,” John urged them, and the two stood up.

“Um, why?” Sam asked, but John just pointed to the door.

“Out, both of you,” he said again, “And close the door when you leave.”

“Ok, ok,” Chas sighed in compliance, steering a puzzled Sam out the door, then closing it softly behind them.

Zed raised an eyebrow at John. “So...why all the secrecy?”

John tented his fingers, giving her one of his more serious looks. “I didn’t think you’d want other people in here for this talk, love,” he grinned. Zed tilted her head in question, and he went on. “You said these didn’t _feel_ like visions. Well, that’s because they weren’t visions. The inspiration for these pictures came purely from your own imagination.”

Zed shook her head, still confused. “So what does that mean?”

John sighed. “Are you daft, love?” he flipped through the pictures. “You obviously have a crush on the bloke. This all came from you, and just you. No psychic interferences with these pictures, Zed.”

Zed opened her mouth, about to argue, but then the thought fully sank in. “I’ve never…” she frowned. “Not since Jim, I haven’t…”

John put a hand on her shoulder. “And to think I just gave the same talk to the devil,” he laughed quietly to himself, before saying in a more serious tone, “But I know you’ve had a hard life, love. And you were locked away from the real world for a long, long time. There are lots of things you don’t know about, that you haven’t experienced yet. But this…” he smiled gently at her―a genuine smile, not his typical cocky smirk. “This is good for you, Zed. Trust your feelings, take a chance with this bloke. I have a good feeling about him.”

“Wow,” Zed smiled, shaking her head. “Relationship advice from John Constantine. Never would’ve thought.” But she wrapped her arms around his neck all the same, whispering a soft, “Thank you” in his ear.

“Anytime, love,” John said back with a smile, as if sharing some inside joke with himself, “Anytime.”

  
  


* * *

  
  


Lucifer sat at his piano bench, mindlessly twirling an empty glass in his hand, John’s words echoing in his mind. Maze leaned against the wall, arms folded. “John changed a lot,” she remarked, and Lucifer nodded, unsure of what to even say. Maze shifted, crossing her legs. “He gives a hell of a speech, though,” she added.

“Uh huh,” Lucifer agreed, staring at the piano keys. _Accept my feelings...huh._ “Hell of a speech,” he repeated.

Maze stepped toward the elevator. “Well, I’m off. Decker’s probably missing her roomie. I’ll come with you tomorrow to Amenadiel’s, but don’t think for a second I’m going to tag along when you visit your bitch of a mother.”

“Would never dream of asking you to do that, Mazikeen,” Lucifer said with a half-smile, and the demon left with a toothy grin. Lucifer stared down into his empty glass, left alone now with his thoughts. _It’s not as if I ever experienced love before,_ he frowned, _aside from the love of my brothers before I was cast out of Heaven. And I suppose my mother always loved me, in her strange twisted way._

He slid a finger across the smooth piano keys, wondering. _But if Father really did put Chloe in my path...then I’m just falling right into his trap, just as he planned. But would I really risk my own happiness, just to spite him?_ Lucifer shook his head, as if it would dispel the thought from his brain. _No, no, it’s not right. Chloe doesn’t have a choice. Her emotions aren’t true, they’re fabricated by him. I wonder what John would say then, if he knew the whole story._

Lucifer chuckled quietly to himself. “I’m the devil,” he said softly, “I’m evil.” He twirled the glass around his finger. _But am I evil because I’m the devil? Or am I the devil because I’m evil?_ He tilted his head back, staring at the ceiling. “So you’re not up there anymore, huh, Dad,” he mumbled, “I guess I can’t ask you anymore what your bloody plan was for me.” He let out a harsh laugh. “As if you’d ever answered me, anyway.”

He frowned at the ceiling. “I guess I really am talking to myself now, aren’t I,” he sighed. “Now that I know for a fact you’re not listening.” Lucifer turned the glass upside down on the piano top, staring at it until his eyes began to lose focus. Yet he found himself unable to look away. Just for old time’s sake, he murmured, “What’s your plan for me, Dad?”

And, just like old times, there was no answer.

  
  


* * *

  
  


Amenadiel was just putting away his dishes from breakfast when there was a knock at his door. Smoothing out his shirt, he opened the door to see a smiling Maze. “Maze!” he smiled back.

“Amenadiel,” she greeted with a sarcastic head dip, then leaned in to kiss him deeply, passionately, in that forceful way that is so Maze. Amenadiel returned the kiss with the same passion, and Maze pushed him back into his apartment, slamming the door behind her. When they broke apart, Maze licked her lips and smiled at him. “You’ve got guests coming over soon,” she breathed down his neck, hot and heavy. “Might wanna tidy the place up a bit.”

“Um hmm,” Amenadiel hummed, not really listening, as he fell back onto the couch and let Maze straddle him, her nails raking across his shoulders and down his torso, her touch sending electric shocks down his spine. He curled his fingers into her hair, tugging hard, the way she liked, and her moan of pleasure went straight to his crotch. “Mm, Maze,” Amenadiel murmured into her neck, leaning down to places kisses along her collarbone. “Love you, baby.”

Maze arched into him, a breathless laugh leaving her throat. “And I love _you,_ baby.”

  
  


* * *

  
  


Tulip looked up the tall apartment building dubiously. “You’re tellin’ me an angel lives there?” she frowned. _No frickin’ way._

“He does indeed,” Lucifer sighed with a tight smile. “Now, I’m guessing Maze is already there, so we ought to get going, wouldn’t you say?”

“Let’s go,” Jesse pushed past them, hurrying towards the door. Tulip sighed. She knew how much he was putting into this quest to find God, and she knew what it meant to him to get Eugene out of Hell, but... _I’m not so sure anymore that either of those things are even possible. With all the setbacks we’ve had, and all the crazy things we’ve seen…_ She shook her head, let out a deep breath, then followed everyone else inside. _We’re just humans, she reminded herself, so how much can we really hope to get against things from Heaven and Hell?_

They all piled into an elevator―squishy, but everyone was too eager to split up and take two trips―and it took them up. “Here we are,” Lucifer said cheerfully as the doors dinged open, and he strode down the hall to knock on one of the doors. There was no answer. Lucifer folded his hands behind his back and rocked back and forth on his feet, waiting patiently. He smiled at the rest of the group, most of which were fidgeting. “Maze is probably there,” the devil explained, which really was no explanation at all.

“Can’t we just―” Dean started, but Sam quickly cut him off.

“We’re not breaking down an angel’s door, Dean.” 

The rest of the group stayed quiet, and Lucifer knocked on the door again. They heard the sound of something breaking― _Sounds like glass,_ Tulip thought―then a deep male voice saying, “Coming!” The door swung open, and Tulip took in the apparent angel: tall and chiseled, muscles straining under his gray T-shirt, eyes a little too excited for someone who was just greeting guests. “Luci,” the angel said, surprised, then cast his gaze around the rest of the group. “And, um…”

“Didn’t Maze tell you we were coming?” Lucifer leaned forward expectantly. “No matter,” he said breezily, walking past the angel into the apartment. “We’re here now, and we need to have an important discussion.”

“Um,” Amenadiel gaped, then shook his head and opened the door wider, gesturing to the rest of the group. “Come in, then, I guess.”

They filed in, and Tulip saw Maze sweeping up a broken shot glass on the floor of the kitchen. Lucifer took a seat on the couch, and the rest all found seats as well. Cassidy lit a cigarette, then offered one wordlessly to John, who took it with a sharp grin and a knowing nod, as if they were sharing some inside joke. Tulip glanced at the angel, surprised to see that he didn’t seem to mind. _How does an angel end up dating a demon? she couldn’t help wondering._

Amenadiel stood with his arms crossed, confusion gleaming in his eyes. “So...what did you want to talk about?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok so I feel like everyone in this chapter is really OOC, and I don't like the way I've written Sam and Zed, but I didn't feel like rewriting anything so...oh, well. Comments and kudos are greatly appreciated!!!
> 
> (Also, let me know if the constant POV switches are annoying or confusing, I feel like I should tone down on those a bit lol, but I've put in so many characters and idk how to juggle them all xD)


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess who's updating on time this week!!

Maze dumped the glass shards into the garbage can and sat on the kitchen table, watching the exchange from afar. “Well,” Lucifer was saying, “It seems there’s been some trouble up in Heaven, brother. And since I haven’t been there in _ages,_ I assumed you were the angel to talk to.”

Amenadiel frowned, then took a seat, intrigued. “What kind of trouble?” he asked, “And who are all these people?” he swept an arm to encompass Lucifer’s new group of friends. Maze let out a sigh at the thought of listening to introductions yet _again._

Thankfully, Lucifer didn’t seem to be too keen on it either. “Unimportant for now,” he said instead.

The preacher―Jesse Custer, Maze remembered―began to speak, and Maze hurriedly readied her phone. “Apparently,” he said in that charming southern accent of his, “God’s abandoned Heaven. He’s here on Earth somewhere, and we intend to find him. Do you know anything about that?”

“What?” Amenadiel’s eyes widened with pure shock, his mouth agape. _Perfect,_ Maze grinned to herself as she snapped a few photos. Hearing the clicks, Amenadiel narrowed his eyes at her. “Stop it, Maze, this is serious.”

“Sorry, sorry,” Maze gave him a sharp smile and slid her phone away, knowing that he knew that she wasn’t very sorry at all.

John took a deep inhale of smoke before saying, “So, I’m guessing you’re as lost as we are, mate.”

Amenadiel’s look turned suspicious. “You look familiar,” he said slowly, as if trying to place a memory. “Have we met before?”

John shrugged. “Can’t say I’ve had the pleasure. I wouldn’t be surprised if you’d heard of me, though. John Constantine, at your service.” He gave a sarcastic bow from where he was sitting.

“Constantine?” Amenadiel sat up, his look suddenly sharpening. “You’re the one that Manny is so interested in.”

Lucifer laughed. “John Constantine caught Manny’s eye? Now, there’s a surprise.”

“No, no,” Amenadiel held out his hands. “This is serious. Manny isn’t to be trusted.”

John grumbled. “Always knew that feathery bugger had something up his sleeve. He burned my bloody map, the bastard.” Zed gave a nod and a hum of agreement, looking vaguely annoyed at the mention of the map. Maze wondered for a moment what the hell they were talking about, then decided she didn’t care and leaned back on the table, swinging her legs underneath it.

“Constantine, listen to me,” Amenadiel said, his voice stern now. Maze felt a jolt of excitement rush through her body―she loved when he got all controlling and serious. “Manny has been stuck on Earth for years now. He was kicked out of Heaven when I was still up there.” He cast a quick glance at Lucifer. “When _Dad_ was still up there.” He turned back to John. “Manny was cast out because he started something called La Brujeria. I didn’t fully understand it, but―”

“Ah, bollocks,” John leaned his head back against the couch. “Should’ve known.”

“What, what is it?” Sam asked, leaning forward, eyeing Amenadiel expectantly.

The angel only shrugged. “I don’t know, I never bothered to look into it. And when I came to Earth, I was preoccupied with other...issues,” he finished delicately. “Manny was no longer of any concern to me.” Amenadiel turned his sharp gaze onto John. “But you seem to know what it is.”

John took a deep breath before saying, “La Brujeria is an organization of witches and wizards and the like, whose practices are frankly a bit creepy and whose sole purpose is the complete destruction of Heaven. They’re also playing a part in the Rising Darkness, so I’m not surprised now that every time Manny’d shown up to ‘help’ me, he’d just end up being annoyingly cryptic and throwing me off track.” He glared at his cigarette. “Damn it,” he muttered. “Should’ve known better than to trust a soddin’ angel.”

“But he seemed so…” Zed seemed at a loss for words. “So…” 

“Heavensent?” Dean suggested. “Yeah, Sammy and I have had our run-ins with disappointing angels.” Sam shot a quick glare at his brother, which didn’t go unnoticed by Maze, who was watching the shock and betrayal on everyone’s faces with a deep pleasure rising in her chest.

Cassidy stared at the ceiling, eyes glazing over. “Remember Fiore?” he sighed.

“That angel you fucked?” Jesse asked, eyebrows raised. At least that prompted a laugh from everyone, and a few shocked _‘What?!’_ s.

Cassidy pointed his cigarette at the preacher accusingly. “First of all, all we did was a shitload of drugs. Which he only died once from. And _second_ of all, I did technically get him to agree to our terms.”

“No, you didn’t!” Tulip rolled her eyes so hard Maze thought they might pop out of her skull. “If you had, then that damn Saint of Killers wouldn’t have followed us all the way to Arizona!”

Zed cut in hesitantly. “Do we...do we really want to be discussing this right now?”

Jesse sighed. “You’re right, you’re right...back to the issues at hand. So we’ve got...no idea where God is, no way into Hell, and now this ‘Rising Darkness’ thing and an angel who’s gone darkside, supposedly orchestrating the whole thing?” He raised his eyebrows at everyone.

“Sounds about right, mate,” John agreed.

“Amenadiel,” Lucifer said in that velvety voice of his, “What do you think the chances would be that Dad would go to Mum, if he were here?”

Maze’s boyfriend let out an amused huff of air. “Really, Luci?” he shook his head, then seemed to stop and consider it. “Actually...if Dad was here, Mom would definitely be able to sense him. And, knowing her, she’d do anything to get to him, maybe convince him to let us all back into Heaven.” He gave Lucifer a look. “You might be onto something there.”

“Wonderful,” Lucifer smiled, clasping his hands together. “Well, then, it seems we _do_ have a lead,” he looked around expectantly, but no one seemed too psyched to visit the devil’s mother. Maze stifled a snort. _They shouldn’t be. She’s a bitch anyway._

  
  


* * *

  
  


Dean followed Lucifer out of the other angel’s apartment, taking Sam’s arm and pulling him off to the side as the others headed for the elevator. “Sam,” he started, but Sam stopped him there.

“You’re worried about meeting Satan’s mom,” Sam guessed, raising his eyebrows.

Dean frowned. “Not _worried_ , just...not sure what to expect. I mean, here we are working on the same side as the guy who nearly broke your mind. Lucifer got you locked up in a _mental hospital_ , Sammy. What are we doing here?”

Sam sighed. “Following John,” he huffed, but when we saw that Dean wasn’t laughing, he relented. “Dean, we have to do this. The Rising Darkness seems to be a bigger problem every day. I mean, with what we just found out? First we think it’s Crowley’s incompetence that’s setting all this evil loose from Hell, but now we learn there’s a third party, this―La Brujeria, or whatever. And an _angel_ is leading them.” He let out a breath, running a hand through his hair. “It’s crazy, but...we need to help fix this. This one’s bigger than just us, Dean.”

Dean shook himself. “No, you’re―you’re right. We can’t afford to have misgivings about something this big.” He frowned, his eyes following John as the magician started talking to Jesse, an intensely interested look on his face. “But what’s the plan now?” he turned back towards Sam. “Now that we know that returning Lucifer to Hell won’t fix the problem. We’re gonna have to go after this La Brujeria, aren’t we?”

“Probably?” Sam shrugged. “We’ll have to talk to John about it later.” He glanced over, eyeing Lucifer uneasily. He still hadn’t gotten used to having the devil’s presence so close again. “Lucifer didn’t seem to have any idea what the Rising Darkness was, or the La Brujeria.”

“Maybe Lucifer isn’t the answer here,” Dean muttered, and, even though the mere thought of it sent shudders of discomfort down his spine, he said, “I think this is out of the devil’s control.”

By the look on Sam’s face, it made him just as nervous. “Well,” the younger Winchester sighed after a beat of silence. “We might as well focus on helping those three”―he gestured to Jesse, Tulip, and Cassidy―“find God, then we can focus on the Rising Darkness issue. John’ll figure it out; he always does.”

“Right,” Dean breathed, not entirely convinced. “Right.”

  
  


* * *

  
  


Lucifer would never admit it aloud, but he _was_ slightly disappointed that his brother didn’t offer to accompany them to Charlotte Richard’s offices. Of course, Maze wasn’t coming with them, and with her in the angel’s apartment, Lucifer knew that trying to convince his brother to leave would be a hopeless task. _That demon’s got her claws deep in him,_ he chuckled inwardly, smiling endearingly at the thought of his brother and his follower together. _Match made in...well, on Earth, I suppose._

With a sigh of trepidation, Lucifer walked up to the office door, putting his hand on the handle but pausing before opening it. _At least John’s here,_ he found himself thinking, having found in the past that the crass magician’s presence usually served as a nice mediator between...well, any group of equally infuriating individuals. “Well, here goes nothing,” Lucifer sighed, swinging the door open and calling out, “Charlotte?” just in case she had anyone else in the building.

“Lucifer?!” he heard her familiar over-enthusiastic voice call back, and within seconds Charlotte Richard’s body came into view from around the corner, nearly tripping over herself on the too-high heels she was wearing. “Oh, Lucifer, you came!” she gasped, running up to throw her arms around him. “Are you finally going to send me back to Hell?” she quickly released him to beg, her brow creased with hope. “Please, I can’t stand another _day_ among these humans.”

“No, Mum, I didn’t come here for that,” Lucifer said impatiently, firmly pushing her back. He turned behind him, gesturing to the wide-eyed collection of people he’d brought. “I brought some of those humans you love so much; they want to ask you some questions.” 

“Well, then,” Charlotte forced a smile, casting unsubtle questioning glances between the group and Lucifer. “Bring in your guests, come on. Let’s all have a seat, shall we?” She led them to what seemed like the waiting room. The ten of them, including Charlotte, settled into the hard sofas.

Lucifer turned back to her, adopting his most serious expression, deciding to get right to the point before she could prattle on any more. “Mum, did you know that Dad abandoned Heaven?”

Charlotte made as if she was about to fall backwards, reaching out a hand to steady herself on the couch, and putting her other hand on her chest. “What?” she gasped, almost theatrically. “Your father is―is here? On Earth?” She let out a breathless laugh.

Lucifer frowned at her. “If Maze was here, she would’ve sunk one of her demon blades into your lung for that,” he growled. “Do not― _lie_ ―to me, Mother.”

Jesse leaned forward, tenting his hands and staring intently at Charlotte. **“Tell us where God is.”**

Charlotte froze for a moment, mouth gaping open, then she stuttered, “He’s―he’s here, on Earth. I could―I could _feel_ his presence, when he fell.”

Tulip nudged Jesse with her elbow. “Ask where _specifically._ ”

Jesse sighed, then said, **“Where on this Earth is he now?”** Lucifer grinned at the preacher, impressed despite himself at this strange show of power.

“I―I don’t know,” Charlotte frowned. “I didn’t want to track him down, not yet, not until I could get Lucifer to agree to leave his damn humans and come back home. I never went after him.” She paused to take a breath, then looked at Jesse with interest. “What is that power you have? It’s most interesting to see it inside a human.”

Instead of answering, Jesse asked, **“Could you lead us to God?”**

“Why, yes, I suppose so,” Charlotte replied, and Lucifer noticed that her answers were getting smoother and more conversational. _She’s getting used to the power,_ Lucifer guessed, _learning how to respond to it, how to react._ Charlotte suddenly swept her sharp gaze over Lucifer. “Does this mean you’ve agreed to leave this silly Earth and come back to Heaven with us?”

“Not quite, Mother,” Lucifer frowned. “We’ve been over this. _This_ is my home now. Heaven never was.”

“But what about your family?” Charlotte pleaded, that same desperate hope shining in her eyes. “Your brothers―Amenadiel, he’s already agreed to come, and now we have our chance! Lucifer, please,” she sighed. “I know you’ll be leaving things behind. Mazikeen, your club, that detective friend of yours.” Lucifer bristled at that, but Charlotte went on. “But don’t you want to come home? Isn’t it what you wanted, ever since you got stuck in Hell?”

“No, Mum, I never wanted to return to Heaven.” Lucifer hated the fact that his voice was shaking, that his vision was blurring, that his throat was tightening up. “I wanted to make a home for myself, somewhere I could live the life I wanted to live.” He glared at her, then suddenly stood up. “You can go find Father, and play his silly games,” Lucifer growled. “ _You_ can return to Heaven with Amenadiel if that’s what you desire. But do _not_ ask me to come along. After everything he’s done to me…everything he’s done to _Chloe_...” Lucifer shook his head, then let out a huff and stalked from the room.

“Lucif―” Charlotte called, but another voice cut her off.

“I’ve got this one, love,” John’s surprisingly soft voice said, and Lucifer heard the magician’s quick footsteps following him as he exited the building. “Luci, wait,” John said gently, and Lucifer felt a hand on his forearm, turning to see the blond looking up at him with eyes hooded with uncharacteristic understanding. “Let’s just talk for a bit, yeah?”

  
  


* * *

  
  


“So…” Cassidy decided to be the first brave soul to break the silence. “Yer gonna help us find God then, right?”

Charlotte glared at him, and he could feel the raw power emanating from her eyes. “Really, vampire?” she spat, then threw her hands in the air. “I don’t understand his obsession with this stupid Earth,” she cried. “No matter how many times I ask him, it’s always the same thing!” She crossed her arms, her lips forming an angry pout. “I should’ve killed that detective when I had the chance.”

“That would’ve made things much worse,” Zed offered, her voice quiet and sympathetic.

Charlotte spun to look at her. “And what would you know?” she almost growled.

Zed pointed to her own forehead. “I’m psychic,” she shrugged. “I had dreams last night of you; I didn’t understand them until now. You don’t understand human emotions. You _can’t_ understand Lucifer’s connection to this place and these people. You don’t know why he acts differently around Chloe Decker, and you don’t know why he wants to stay in this city, on this Earth. Amenadiel tried to explain it once, but you’re literally incapable of understanding. You haven’t been on this Earth long enough to absorb the capacity of feelings that humanity has expanded upon over the years.”

Charlotte was silent for a moment, then she whispered, “Do you know what the detective is?”

“Yes,” Zed sighed. “She is a miracle. A blessing, in many ways. A curse, in some. Amenadiel didn’t understand what he was doing, what he was creating, at the time. But now he feels guilty. He feels like he’s taken free will from the girl. And Lucifer feels the same way, though he’s done nothing wrong.” Zed took a moment to think, twirling a section of curly hair around her finger. “Lucifer feels...cheated,” she said at last. “He thinks that God fabricated his emotions as well. He doesn’t know what choices have been his, and what choices have been his father’s.”

A heavy silence drifted over them, and Charlotte stared down at her hands. “Wow,” Cassidy eventually breathed, if only just to disturb the quiet. _Hell of an emotional roller coaster, I’d say,_ he inwardly joked, but decided it wouldn’t be in his best interests to say that particular one aloud. “Now, this is a serious problem and all, but aren’t we forgetting about the fact that God is no longer pulling the strings, so to speak?”

Charlotte put her face in her hands and groaned. “This is ridiculous,” she moaned. “Just because that man feels like he needs to control _everybody’s_ happiness, he has to go and force it on his own child. He should’ve known Lucifer would immediately see it as a threat to his own free will. Why can’t they just all get along, and be a family again?”

Tulip shifted forward in her seat. “Well, if you can help us find God,” she said slowly, her voice persuasive in its logical tone, “then we can fix all the miscommunications, right?” She smiled a sharp, toothy smile. “So, what do you say? Help us find God?”

Charlotte dropped her hands, taking a breath. “Whatever it takes to get my family back together.”

  
  


* * *

  
  


“No, no, you don’t _understand,_ ” Lucifer said imploringly, his eyes flickering in between black and red, as if his very image was as confused as his emotions. “My father _created_ Chloe Decker, and put her in my path! I can’t trust that her feelings for me are even real, any more than I can trust that my feelings for her are real.”

“But what’s the sodding difference?” John asked, exasperated now. _Patience, John,_ he reminded himself, _you’re talking to the devil here. It’s not gonna go easy as anyone else._ “Honestly, mate, if you both have a thing for each other, then just get together and be done with it. Doesn’t make a difference whether some force of nature brought you to each other, now, does it?”

“But it _does,_ ” Lucifer seemed almost pleading, as if begging John to understand. “If my father _put_ her in my path, then her feelings are not her own. She doesn’t have a _choice._ And despite how I feel for her, I cannot take that choice away from her.”

John threw his hands in the air. “But you _are_ taking the bloody choice away from her, by not offering yourself up on a silver fuckin’ platter!” John’s voice rose with frustration. “You’re doing this out of spite for your dad, and I can understand that. But don’t focus so much on not following whatever damn ‘plan’ he laid out for you that you sacrifice your own happiness.” John stopped to take a breather. “Besides, he’s not even in Heaven anymore. Who’s to say that he’s even still stringing us Earth dwellers along anymore? Who’s to say we aren’t in charge of our own destinies now?”

Lucifer walked over to a bench and sat down on it, leaning his head into his hands and rubbing at his temples. “I hate it,” he moaned. “I hate not knowing what’s my own decision and what’s his. I hate the fact that he could make anything happen on this bloody Earth.”

John sat beside him. “I feel ya, mate,” he pulled a cigarette from his coat pocket, offering one to Lucifer, who took it gratefully. “After all, I already know my destiny. My soul’s goin’ straight to Hell, soon as I’m done living out my shite life. And there’s nothing I can do that’d change that.” He lit his cigarette, drew in a deep breath, laughed the smoke from his lungs. “Manny told me once that I might have a chance. If I started doing the right thing, he said, I could save my soul. Now I know better than to believe anything he ever said to me.” He cast a sidelong glance at Lucifer. “Did you know he appeared to me, on my way here? Told me I was wasting my time. Told me not to come.” He shook his head. “Feathery bastard, I tell ya.”

Lucifer let out a long sigh, then looked over at John. “You’re a good friend, John,” he said, unexpectedly.

“Ooh, that’s a new one,” John smirked, taking another breath of smoke.

The devil gave him a considering look. “You really have changed, haven’t you,” he mused. John gave him a curious look, and he went on. “You’re less selfish. You’re more attuned to other people. You seem to care more about people’s feelings in general, which is”―he let out a chuckle―“shocking, to say the least.” Lucifer turned a more serious gaze onto John. “Is this what love can do to someone?”

Suddenly feeling uncomfortable, John shrugged, shrinking down into his trench coat, wondering if flipping his collar up would be too obvious. “Suppose so, mate,” John replied, because he had to say something, but the devil’s words had him feeling more self-conscious than he was used to. _Pull it together,_ he scolded himself, _John Constantine doesn’t get self-conscious._

Lucifer hummed. “You know, I’ve never seen you blush before. It’s actually quite adorable.”

“Say that again, I dare you,” John growled. “I’ll send your soul right back to Hell, sod all.”

Lucifer held up his hands in surrender. “Ok, ok. Joking.” They sat in a comfortable silence for a while, smoking their cigarettes down to nothing before lighting two more, blowing smoke good-naturedly in each other’s faces every once in a while.

“I could really go for a shot of whiskey right now,” Lucifer sighed, his voice quiet, as if hesitant to break the silence.

John snorted. “After all that talk about bloody _feelings?_ Mate, I could go for a _bottle_ of whiskey right about now.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok so I'm sorry if John is like suuuuper OOC but I'm trying to show that he's changed since his relationship with Chas, while still keeping some of his very John-like qualities, so...I'm not sure how well I'm doing that. (Also, Lucifer's character is surprisingly hard to write?)
> 
> Anyway, comments and kudos are appreciated!


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The gang stays the night at Lucifer's
> 
> Featuring drunk!John, musician!Lucifer, and chef!Tulip

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posting a day early 'cause I'll be busy tomorrow ^_^

Back in Lucifer’s club, Zed sat in a chair in the main upstairs room, where Lucifer was playing the piano softly. Somehow she found herself unsurprised that the sophisticated man could play the instrument so well. _And here I thought the fiddle was the devil’s instrument of choice,_ she mused, taking a sip of her vodka and tonic, mixed expertly by Maze. The room was empty besides the three of them, and Zed listened in appreciative silence as Lucifer finished playing Jimi Hendrix’s ‘All Along the Watchtower’ and started what sounded like the beginning of Metallica’s ‘The Unforgiven’.

Zed finished her drink, and Maze wordlessly approached, holding two more. Zed accepted one with a smile, and Maze sat beside her, sipping hers slowly, eyes fixed on the devil as he played, his eyes unfocused and glazed over. “Sad song,” Zed said softly.

Maze nodded. “It’s his go-to sulk song,” she frowned slightly. “Can you feel his pain? It comes off him in waves. Normally pain is a turn-on for me, but when it’s him…” she shook her head. “It just feels wrong.”

Zed nodded her understanding. “New blood joins this earth,” she began to sing quietly, “And quickly he’s subdued. Through constant pained disgrace, the young boy learns their rules.” As Lucifer played on, his eyes seemed to lose their lost look, and they flicked over to Zed, as she kept singing softly with a smile. “With time the child draws in, this whipping boy done wrong. Deprived of all his thoughts, the young man struggles on and on, he’s known,” Zed saw the beginnings of a faint smile on the devil’s face as she went on, “A vow unto his own, that never from this day, his will they’ll take away.”

Zed stopped to take a breather, and was surprised when Maze’s voice continued, the demon grinning as she sang, “What I’ve felt, what I’ve known,” she softened her voice as Lucifer’s playing got softer, “Never shined through in what I’ve shown. Never be, never see...won’t see what might have been.”

With a soft laugh, Lucifer began to sing along, and he and Maze harmonized perfectly as they repeated, “What I’ve felt, what I’ve known, never shined through in what I’ve shown.” Maze stopped, and Lucifer finished the verse with a heartfelt, “Never free, never me...so I dub thee unforgiven.” He went on to play the interlude, but when his fingers faltered he stopped with a sigh, reaching for his own untouched drink atop the piano.

“Feeling better?” a new voice asked from the doorway, and all three singers turned to see Sam in the doorway, a small smile on his face.

Lucifer shrugged. “Nothing like a nice sing-along to help me forget my infuriating mother,” he grinned, then tilted his head. “And here I thought you’d been avoiding me, Sammy.”

Sam matched Lucifer’s shrug. “Well, you did make me go insane, so you’ll understand if I’m a bit uneasy around you,” he answered. “But you’re a different person now. Or rather, you _are_ a person now. So I can...forgive you, so to speak.”

“Ah,” Lucifer chuckled. “But weren’t you listening, Sam? I’ve already been dubbed ‘unforgiven’.”

Sam laughed. “By Metallica, maybe,” he shook his head. “Not by me.” He gave Lucifer a searching look. “You know, I don’t believe that you’re still such a bad guy. I think your time on Earth has changed you.” Sam gestured from Lucifer to Maze. “It’s changed both of you. In a good way.”

Zed watched the identical frowns appear on both of their faces, as they tried to decide how to take that. Zed added, “I think he’s right, you know.” With a heavy sigh, she stood up and stretched. “Well, I’d better be off. We’re heading out tomorrow with Charlotte, so I think I should get some sleep.” She grinned at the devil and his demon, both still silent with pensive frowns, then followed quietly Sam out of the room.

  
  


* * *

  
  


Chas sat down on the bed, listening to the soft piano notes floating through the open bedroom door as John poured them both drinks. “Is that Lucifer?” Chas asked, in awe of the perfect rendition of the iconic Metallica song. _It’s been years since I’ve heard that one,_ he thought nostalgically.

“Yeah,” John handed him a drink, sitting beside him on the bed and quickly gulping down his own. He drained his glass quickly, then reached for the bottle again. “Luci always liked music,” he chuckled. “I see piano is still his favorite.”

“Huh,” Chas replied, quickly finishing his own drink, if only to match John and his inhuman ability to down shot after shot―that ability had led to many a drinking contest between the magician and a certain Dean Winchester, and those had _never_ ended well. “It’s a good song,” he added, if only to fill the silence as John dutifully filled Chas’s glass once more. Chas frowned slightly at the generous amount in his glass. _This is vodka...right? We’re not drinking it like it’s vodka._

“Mm,” John wordlessly agreed, tossing back his second drink and immediately pouring a third.

“John, you’re going to be hungover tomorrow,” Chas warned.

“Mm,” John said again, finally abandoning his glass and drinking it straight from the bottle. Chas sighed, then fell back against the bed, already mentally preparing himself to having to clean up whatever mess the soon-to-be-drunk magician was going to make of himself.

“Seriously?” Chas groaned. Drunk John was never someone he wanted to deal with willingly.

Finally John took the bottle from his lips, licking the fiery liquid from the neck of the bottle. “Yep,” he grinned, then went back to sucking the vodka down at an impossible rate, draining a little over half the bottle before finally taking a breather.

Chas put his hands over his face, rubbed his eyes. “Why do you do this to yourself,” he moaned. “Why do you do this to me.”

“Well, ’s a tough competition, love,” John said, slurring slightly. “But I’m always gonna hate m’self a little more than I love you.”

  
  


* * *

  
  


Charlotte sat in her now-empty office, staring blankly at her desk and thinking. “Lucifer, Lucifer,” she sighed, bringing a hand to her temple and massaging her forehead. “All I want is for us all to be a family again. Can’t you see that that’s more important than any sort of life on this ridiculous Earth with these puny humans?” She let out another deep breath, thinking back to the strange group of people who had asked for her help in finding God. She felt the vague stirrings of doubt in her stomach.

_What if he’s still angry with me? What if he tells Amenadiel or one of our other children to send me back to Hell?_ She laughed at that. “At least I won’t be on Earth any longer,” she said aloud, but the smile didn’t stay on her face very long as she remembered the fury in Lucifer’s voice when he said, _‘This is your punishment.’_ “But I need to be with them,” she murmured softly, leaning her elbows on the desk and holding her head in both her hands. “I need to be with my family again.”

She took a deep breath, sitting up straight. “I’m going to find God,” she almost growled. “And I’m going to fix this, once and for all.”

  
  


* * *

  
  


Sam walked with Zed down the hallway of bedrooms, and she stopped at hers. “Um,” she started, her eyes moving from side to side until they finally looked up to meet Sam’s awaiting gaze. “Do you―I mean, would you like to...to stay with me? For a bit?” She shifted a little. “Just, you know...to talk. About the sketches, I mean. John told me what it meant.”

“Oh,” Sam began nodding. “Yeah, yeah, I should...definitely hear what that’s about. Yeah.”

Zed gave a tight smile, before leading him into the room and closing the door behind him. She picked up her sketchbook, and they sat together on the bed, looking at the open pages. “Well,” Zed began, “This is going to sound weird, but...they weren’t visions.” 

“What do you mean?” Sam asked, not really focusing on her words at all, finding himself lost in the darkness of her eyes, in the shape of her lips, in the lush curls of her hair, tumbling over her shoulders…

“What I mean is,” Zed continued, getting increasingly flustered, which made Sam’s heart ache a bit. “Um, the pictures...came from my own mind. In a way. Sort of. Only not with the psychic gift, you know?” Sam frowned at her, struggling to understand, and she sighed and said quietly, “I may...possibly...like you.”

“Oh,” Sam said dumbly.

“I mean, _like_ -like.” Zed gave him a searching look. “Like, you know...in this way.” She leaned forward, and Sam’s heart just about stopped when her lips made contact with his. Hardly knowing what he was doing, lost in a haze of shock and delight, he brought his hands to her face, pushing back that lovely hair of hers, and kissed her back. They fell against the mattress in a tangle of limbs and a few breathless laughs before kissing again, this time with passion and intent.

  
  


* * *

  
  


“Pancakes?” Dean asked as he walked into the kitchen area, immediately smelling the familiar breakfast food.

The southern woman―Tulip, Dean had to remind himself―was at the stove, humming what sounded like ‘Come on Eileen’ under her breath as she cooked. “Yup,” she replied, not taking her eyes off the pan as she flipped the now-identified pancake. Then she finally looked at Dean. “You can set the table if you want. You’re the only other one awake, ‘sides me.”

“Gotcha,” Dean grinned, excited at the thought of pancakes― _pancakes_ ―which he hadn’t had since he was a kid. He rifled through Lucifer’s cabinets, eventually finding 9 plates, setting them around the large table, then going back to look for silverware. “So,” he cleared his throat, hoping to start a conversation with the closed-off woman. “How long have you been...looking for God?”

Tulip shrugged. “Couple weeks...we didn’t have many leads to start with, so we agreed on Mexico ‘cause Cass wanted tacos. We got held up by that Saint guy for a while, then we heard about Lucifer being here. So we headed out this way, found you lot in Arizona, and you know the rest.”

Dean frowned. “You decided to look for God in Mexico...because your vampire friend wanted tacos?”

“It’s a long story,” Tulip waved her hand in the air in a dismissive wave. “That’s the short version of it.”

“Ah.” Another silence fell over them, and Dean wracked his brains for something to talk about. Coming up with nothing, he checked the time―9am―and said, “Well, d’you want me to wake the others, tell ‘em breakfast is almost ready?”

“Sure, sure,” Tulip said, still focused on dripping her pancake batter into the pan.

Dean slid quietly from the kitchen, going back to his and Sam’s room, grinning at the lack of Sam. _He finally got the guts to do it,_ he thought gleefully, knowing how much of a wuss his brother could be around the ladies. _But that Zed is a solid 10, good for him…_

Exiting the room with a proud smirk, Dean knocked softly on the next door, which belonged to the southern couple and the vampire. “Yeah?” Jesse’s deep voice answered almost immediately.

“Tulip’s making breakfast,” Dean replied, “I’m just getting everyone up.”

“Consider us up,” Cassidy’s joking voice floated through the door, and Dean heard Jesse let out an amused snort.

“We’ll be out in a few,” the preacher promised.

“Uh huh,” Dean shook his head, then headed down the hall. He hesitated at Zed’s room, then passed it and knocked obnoxiously loudly on John’s door. He heard a muffled yelp, the distinctive solid _thump_ of someone falling out of bed, then a pained groan.

“Bloody hell, _what?_ ” John’s voice sounded irritable enough. 

Dean took a moment to bask in the glory of having annoyed the great John Constantine, before announcing, “Breakfast is just about ready, get yourselves up if you want any.”

“He just needs a few minutes,” Chas’s amused voice answered. “And maybe some aspirin.” John let out another weak groan, and Dean felt a smile spread across his face at the sound of the magician’s agony.

  
  


* * *

  
  


Tulip watched as everyone―including the devil―sat at the table, each plate already loaded with three or four pancakes. She tossed a few more things in the middle of the table. “Marshmallows, M&M’s, chocolate chips, chocolate syrup, sprinkles, whipped cream, gummy bears, and peanut butter,” she listed aloud.

“Yes, please,” Cassidy said, immediately reaching for the marshmallows and sprinkles, while everyone else made faces at the new centerpiece.

“Um,” John looked like he was about to throw up just looking at the heaps of food, still looking noticeably hungover. “I’m just gonna―I don’t think―” Chas quickly turned him away and pushed him towards the bathroom.

“No vomiting at the table, John,” he sighed, and as the magician left Chas turned back to the rest of them. “He should probably stick to toast for a while,” he shrugged in the face of the questioning stares.

“Well,” Tulip grinned. “Let’s get down to breakfast, shall we?”

Sam looked almost disturbed at the array of goodies in the middle of the table. “Is that...are those breakfast things?” he asked a bit weakly, as Dean took the marshmallows from Cassidy, dumping nearly half the bag onto his plate and began piling whipped cream on top of that.

Lucifer grinned, reaching for the gummy bears and chocolate syrup. “Well, _I_ , for one, think it’s a lovely breakfast.”

Tulip carefully watched everyone ready their breakfasts. After all, there was a lot you could tell about a person based on their food preferences. Jesse just went with the M&M’s, Cassidy added chocolate syrup atop his marshmallows and sprinkles, Zed went for the chocolate chips, Lucifer didn’t add anything other than the gummy bears and chocolate syrup, and Dean added some sprinkles and gummy bears atop his marshmallows and whipped cream. Chas and Sam just ate their pancakes with nothing else, at which Tulip frowned but decided not to judge aloud. John was still missing, presumably dealing with his hangover in the bathroom.

“So,” Cassidy twirled his fork through his fingers as he chewed. “That Charlotte lady’s taking us to God today, right?”

“Yup,” Jesse and Tulip answered in unison, then went back to silently eating.

“Did she say what time―”

“Why, Cass, you got somewhere to be?” Tulip sighed. She loved the vampire to death―so to speak―but sometimes his inability to keep quiet for more than five minutes really grated on her nerves.

Lucifer cleared his throat softly. “She doesn’t quite understand the way time works on Earth, so she could be here anytime today, really. She’d probably come before sundown, though.”

“Interesting,” Cassidy muttered, his fingers drumming against the table. _Tap-tap-tap-tap, tap-tap-tap-tap._ No one said anything for a long moment, and eventually Tulip snapped.

“Stop!” she slammed her hands down on the table, and Cass jumped, quickly snatching his own hand under the table and away from Tulip’s wrath.

“Sorry, sorry,” he grumbled.

Another heavy silence lay over them for a while. “These are good pancakes,” Cassidy said softly.

Tulip just shook her head. “You really just can’t stay quiet, can you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok tbh I kinda hate this entire chapter besides the beginning scene with the song (mostly because when he played that in the show and it was so beautiful and emotional and I loved it), tell me what y'all think :D
> 
> Also get PSYCHED 'cause next chapter's got asshole!Manny


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, so this will be my last on-schedule post since this is my latest complete chapter. I can't promise when I'm gonna continue, but here it is in the meantime: enjoy!

After throwing up the rest of the acidic liquid in his stomach, John spent a few minutes dry-heaving before his body finally decided to give him a break. Not feeling up to seeing those piles of definitely-not-breakfast foods, John dragged himself into the main area, right next to the kitchen, where Lucifer’s piano and some very comfortable-looking sofas sat. Half-falling down onto the cushions, John leaned his head back and looked up at the ceiling, wondering when Manny was going to find out John knew about La Brujeria and if the damn angel would do anything about it.

“Manny,” John found himself mumbling, his mouth moving on its own accord. “Manny, you bloody, backstabbing wanker.”

“Yes, John?”

John blinked open his eyes in shock to see Manny standing there, in the middle of the devil’s home, regarding John with a questioning glance. As John stared, surprised that the angel had even shown up at all, Manny spoke again. “You never call me. What’s wrong?”

“You showed up,” John frowned. “You actually bloody well showed up.”

“Yes,” Manny said patiently. “I will always come, if you call me. It’s my duty to watch over you.”

“Oh?” John leaned forward, the painful headache fading into the background as his focus on their conversation intensified. “And it’s also your duty to destroy Heaven as well, eh?”

Manny smiled and gave a slight shake of the head. “John, what are you talking about?” The angel furrowed his brow. “Did you call me here because you were drunk?”

“Not drunk, but I am a little hungover, mate,” John said, feeling a grin tug at his lips at the sight of the angel’s obvious discomfort. _I’ve got you now, you bugger._ “A little feathery friend told me some very useful information the other day,” John went on, “Something about...you, no longer having a connection to Heaven?” He narrowed his eyes at the angel. “Because you started La Brujeria?”

Manny’s smile tightened a bit, but his expression didn’t change. “I don’t know what you’re saying, John.”

“Oh, really?” John’s grin sharpened. “Because I think you do. I think you were just gonna let loose all the evils of Hell onto Earth, get all the angels to abandon post to help save all of God’s precious humans, then take Heaven down once and for all. _I_ think”―John was breathing heavier now, his anger tightening his hands into fists―“that you were going to give me some piece of shite advice on how to stop this damn Rising Darkness, then lead me into a bloody trap and send my soul to Hell!”

Lucifer’s voice floated in from the kitchen area. “John, _what_ are you shouting about?” the devil asked, exasperated.

“Nothing,” John yelled back. “Just tellin’ off a bleeding angel, is all.”

Manny’s gaze sharpened. “Who is that?” he asked John, his eyes flickering from the magician to the out-of-sight kitchen. “Why does his presence feel so familiar?” John heard Lucifer’s footsteps, fast across the floor, followed by 8 other curious spectators.

“Manny?” Lucifer gasped as he came into sight, seeing the other angel in the center of the room. Zed was right behind him, her eyes narrowing in suspicion as she caught sight of Manny. John ignored the confused looks on everyone else’s faces, remembering that they couldn’t see the angel.

“Lucifer?” Manny mimicked, then laughed and shook his head. “Yes, John told me he was going to find you. He said he was going to put you back in Hell, where you belonged.”

“Well, there’s been a slight change of plans,” John scowled at Manny. “You see, since the Rising Darkness isn’t even his fault, putting him back on the throne isn’t going to change much, now, is it? Instead,” John stood, holding out his hand threateningly, mere seconds away from summoning a fistful of Hellfire―he knew for a fact that those flames could harm even an angel. “I’m going to destroy La Brujeria, and it’s gonna start with the death of their leader!”

With that, John brought the intense heat into his hand, thrusting the flames at Manny, whose cocky smile faltered when he realized the flames were burning into his skin. “What is this!” he screamed as he fell to his knees, the fire catching on his clothes.

“John, stop!” Zed ran forward. “You can’t kill an angel!”

“Sod off, I’m already damned, aren’t I?” John ignored Zed in favor of glaring at Manny. “I never had a chance.” It wasn’t a question, but he knew Manny would answer it anyway.

“No,” Manny ground out, struggling to smother the fire, to stop it from spreading across his body. But Hellfire doesn’t stop until it’s burned its target to nothing. “When you die, all the demons in Hell will want to torture you, John Constantine. You are damned in the worst way possible.”

Judging by the shocked and horrified facial expressions John was catching from his peripheral vision, the others could definitely see the raging Hellfire that spread across Manny’s body, if not the burning angel himself. Suddenly Lucifer seemed to unfreeze and he rushed forward, grabbing John’s wrist and yanking it away from Manny. “I can’t let you kill my brother, John,” the devil grimaced.

“What does it matter, Lucifer?” Manny spat. “You already killed Uriel. What’s another brother dead?”

John unexpectedly caught a glimpse of tears in Lucifer’s eyes. “How―” Lucifer gaped, his voice tight. “How did you―?”

Manny grinned, even as the flames caught his feathers, and his wings exploded into a orange and white inferno. He let out a hoarse scream of agony, then glared at Lucifer, panting from the pain but offering no answer. Lucifer leapt forward, swinging his fist into Manny’s face. “How did you _know?_ ” the devil roared, his human image flickering for a moment.

“Lucifer, you’ll catch, too!” John quickly extinguished the flames in his hand and grabbed Lucifer’s jacket, struggling to pull him off the burning angel.

The devil punched Manny again, and the flaming angel spat a bloody tooth onto the floor. “Who told you?” Lucifer panted, sucking air through his teeth as he slammed his fist against Manny’s face once more. _“Who bloody told you about him?!”_

Suddenly Zed ran forward. “Get off him before you burn!” she shouted, slamming into Lucifer and pushing him off of Manny, who lay on the floor with a lazy smile. John suspected his nerves had all burned off at that point, most of the muscle visible beneath the charred skin. John fell back, struggling to catch his breath.

Lucifer lay on his back, panting, Zed sitting up beside him. “Luci,” Manny sing-songed, his voice steady even as his body started to contort, the flames fusing his bones together, his feathers turning to ash and drifting to the ground. “Everyone knows about Uriel. That’s why they’ll never let you back into Heaven. You’re as damned as Constantine.” Manny let out a grating laugh, his voice growing more hoarse as the flames crackled. “Goin’ straight to hell,” he wheezed, as the Hellfire finally swept his body completely into its inferno, raging in a tornado of reds and oranges and whites until it whooshed into nothing. Zed, Lucifer, and John all stared silently at the now-empty spot on the floor, without even a hint of ash as proof of what had just happened.

“Well,” John heaved himself up, straightening his too-loose tie and wiping his hands on his pants. “There’s one backstabbing angel out of the way, eh?” Zed glared at him, and he sighed, kneeling by Lucifer, who was sitting up now, tears in his eyes.

“Another brother dead,” Lucifer laughed harshly, a drop of misery escaping his eye and rolling down his cheek. “He was right, you know. I killed Uriel. I did it to protect Chloe.” He looked at John helplessly. “I’m evil, aren’t I? I’m the devil, and I’m evil. _That_ was my father’s plan all along, wasn’t it?” He desperately gripped at the front of John’s shirt. “I killed my own brother, John,” he breathed, his voice shaking. “What does that make me, if not evil?”

“Hey, Luci,” John firmly gripped Lucifer’s shoulder, but the devil’s eyes were wild with grief and guilt and John didn’t know what he could say that would change that. “You’re not evil, not anymore. I can see it, the same way you said you could see it in me. We can _change,_ Lucifer.” Lucifer stared at the ground, broken misery rolling off of him in waves. John heaved a sigh, and sprawled to the ground beside the devil. _I just killed his brother,_ John realized, and was unable to help the self-deprecating laugh that tore itself from his chest at the thought.

Lucifer suddenly grabbed John by his shirtfront, pulling his arm back and smacking his fist across the magician’s face. “You _killed my brother!_ ” Lucifer shouted.

Zed was screaming something and John could sense other people moving forward from the background, but they all faded into the buzzing in his ears and the haziness in his gaze as Lucifer gave him another harsh punch, his knuckles sending a burning pain against John’s cheekbone. “Harder, mate,” John laughed, tasting blood on his tongue. “Doesn't the sin of murder have a higher price than a few punches?”

“You want punishment?” Lucifer was shouting, “I’ll give you your bloody punishment, Constantine!” He yanked John from the ground, then threw him across the room with inhuman strength. John slammed into the wall with a grunt of pain, feeling a rib crack at the force. Then the devil was on him, feet flying as well as fists, and it was all John could do to stay conscious as each blow rained down on his body. In a way, the pain was comforting, familiar. It took him back to when he was a child, enduring his father’s wrath once his sister ran off without him, without so much as a goodbye, leaving him with that angry, violent man, day after day, yelling at John, _‘Killer, killer, killer…’_

“Harder,” John bled through his tired smirk as his sight came and went, and Lucifer turned into his father, then to the devil, then back again. _No, they’re just the same person._ “Mum’s still dead, and Cheryl’s never comin’ back, so you can just _fuckin’_ go at it.” John didn’t know if he was talking to the devil or his father when he wheezed out, “You know I bloody well deserve it.” He knew he was losing it, he knew his grip on reality was fading quickly, but he couldn’t bring himself to care as Lucifer growled in anger and hit him again and again.

**“Lucifer, _stop!_ ”** John heard Jesse shout, and the blows suddenly ceased.

John blinked up at the devil, who was frozen, fist raised and ready for another hit. The image blurred and doubled, and John wondered if he had a concussion. “Well,” John coughed, spitting blood onto the floor. “That was fun.” Then his vision went dark and he collapsed onto the ground.

  
  


* * *

  
  


Chas paced nervously around the room, constantly glancing over to where John was laying on the couch, still unconscious. “You goddamn idiot,” he growled under his breath. “You’ll never learn, will you.” Zed was sitting at his head, carefully dabbing a wet cloth at the bruises and cuts on his face. The rest of the group was milling around uncertainly. Jesse had used Genesis to get Maze’s phone number out of the still-frozen Lucifer and had called her over in hopes of calming the devil down. Finally, they heard the elevator ding and saw the demon walk in.

“Oh, my,” she laughed as soon as she saw John. “What did Johnny say this time, eh?” She looked over at Lucifer, then waved a hand at Jesse. “You can release him, I’ve got this.”

**“You’re free,”** Jesse said shortly, and Lucifer’s arms fell to his sides as he caught his breath.

“Lucifer, Lucifer,” Maze crooned as she approached the devil, “What on earth happened here? And why is John Constantine half-dead on your couch, hm?”

Lucifer turned to her with red-rimmed eyes. “He killed Manny,” he ground out. “I had to _punish_ him.”

Maze tilted her head. “I see,” she hummed. “I’d say he looks pretty well punished, wouldn’t you?”

Lucifer stared at John, and Chas thought he saw an unmistakable flash of guilt in the devil’s eyes. “I didn’t mean to,” Lucifer whispered. “I just―he can be so infuriating. And Manny was talking about Uriel...I just...I had to hit _someone._ And then he just...his pain, it felt so _good,_ I had to keep going, I couldn’t...” He looked at Maze imploringly, and she nodded.

“I understand, Lucifer. I do,” Maze kept nodding. “I’m sure John understands, too. He knows the consequences of his actions. He’s smart, in that way. He always has been.” She glanced over to the magician’s body, and Chas decided to stop pacing and sit next to Zed on the couch.

“Here,” Zed said softly, handing the cloth to Chas and gently moving to his other side, so that Chas could tend to John. _This is what I’m used to,_ Chas thought ruefully, gently adjusting the magician’s head on his lap so that he could properly examine the visible injuries. _Cleaning up his messes, patching up his injuries when he does something stupid like that._ Chas couldn’t help but feel like this was something more, though. _He provoked the goddamn devil, of all people...And he even mentioned Cheryl, and his mom...he never mentions them._

Maze’s and Lucifer’s quiet conversation had faded into the background and Zed scooted closer, asking, “Do you think he’s going to be ok?”

“He always is,” Chas sighed. “Probably just has a mild concussion. The rest are just bruises, and a few cuts. It’s not so bad.”

“Ah,” Zed winced as John began to twitch in his sleep. “Should we try to wake him now?”

Chas gently shook John’s shoulder. “John,” he murmured. “John, wake up.”

“Is he ok?” Lucifer’s voice asked, and Chas looked up to see a very sorry-looking devil standing in front of them.

“I think so,” Chas said softly. Just then, John’s eyes blinked open, looking dazed and lost. The first thing they fixated on was Zed.

“Cheryl?” John mumbled, reaching out a hand. “Thought you left us for good.” Zed took his hand with some confusion.

“I’m right here, John,” she said uneasily. “I’m Zed, remember?”

Lucifer kneeled down in front of him. “John?” he said gently. “John, I’m really sorry. Are you alright?”

“Oh,” John blinked, and the fogginess cleared from his eyes. “So I’m alive after all.” He leaned back against Chas’s leg, and Chas ran his fingers through John’s hair comfortingly. “Concussion,” John said, looking up at Chas. “Cracked rib. Other than that, it’s just bruises.”

“Do you need a hospital?” Chas asked, even though he already knew what John would say.

“No,” the magician sighed, then looked back over at Lucifer, taking in the devil’s guilty expression. “It’s alright, mate. You were just doing your job, eh? Punishing the sinner, and all that. It’s not like I thought you’d just pour me a pint and we’d sit around and have a right laugh after I killed your brother, now, did I?”

“Still, I―I’m sorry, John.” Lucifer seemed to be almost pleading. “I went overboard. I shouldn’t have done that, not to you.”

“S’alright, mate,” John said again, leaning back into Chas’s touch as he continued to run his fingers gently through the magician’s blond hair. “Besides, don’t we have to get on the road soon? Charlotte was gonna take us to God.” Suddenly John let out a soft chuckle, then winced and grabbed at what Chas guessed was his cracked rib.

“Are you ok?” Zed asked immediately, her hand still tightly gripping his.

“Fine, fine, love,” John sighed. “It’s just...ironic, in a sense.”

Lucifer frowned at him. “You’re in no condition to go on a search for God, John,” he said.

“I’ll sleep it off in the car,” John mumbled, blinking a few more times before pulling his hand from Zed’s and bracing his arms on the couch. “Help me up, will ya?” Chas gently helped John into a sitting position, and the magician staggered to his feet, holding his head as he swayed for a bit. “And maybe grab a few aspirins.” He grinned at the still-worried-looking Lucifer. “Promise, mate, I’ll be good as new faster’n you can say ‘Satan’.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Again, this is the most I've written, so I'm not sure when I'll be able to write more. However, that does mean that the future of this story is open to any and all suggestions, whether it be for plot, characters, whatever! So leave a comment, inspire me on where to go next! Thanks for reading!!


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